


pull us too hard to stay

by majesdane



Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-09
Updated: 2008-11-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:03:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 49,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesdane/pseuds/majesdane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for NaNo 2008. | This is the story of Mag and Marni.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> i have decided long ago  
> that one day we will need to leave  
> each other, that some fight or the other  
> will pull one of us too hard to stay  
> \-- roger bonair agard

  
before all this, oh, safer and smoother and smaller was my heart.  
\-- _before_ , mark halliday

 

 

The first thing Marni can remember is a hand sliding into hers, palm warm and soft. When they shake hands, it doesn't feel like shaking hands with a stranger, but with someone she's known for a long time already. And then she was looking up from the hands, up at the face of a young girl with striking brown eyes staring off into space.

"Mag," the girl said. "Call me Mag."

 

\- - -

 

There's a thing about names. She remembers reading it somewhere, in some book written last century -- _names are important_. She can't recall for the life of her the title of the book or what it was about, but that line, it's stuck with her. Her name is the Hebrew word for 'rejoice;' she looked it up once when she was bored, and she remembers thinking that it was ridiculous of her parents to name her that, because her parents weren't religious in the least, let alone Jewish.

Mag's name is Magdalene, like the saint.

Marni mentioned it to Mag once, in passing, but Mag just scoffed and said it was all rubbish. Mag didn't put any stock in religion.

It seemed as if the whole world agreed with her; religion had become passé in the future, much like everything else after the epidemic. It swelled and then burst, as the population fell and the death toll grew. Those who didn't die simply abandoned religion, simply just stopped caring. It wasn't worth the effort. It was replaced by a more carefree, live-for-today, kind of attitude, though there were still some who still clung to their beliefs, perhaps afraid of what would happen if they stopped believing entirely.

Mag hasn't gone by her full name for years now, not since her parents died. Marni can only remember meeting them once, and she doesn't really remember them, but in her mind sometimes she pictures them without faces, tall, with dark hair and pale skin, just like Mag. She wonders what Mag's parents look like in Mag's head, and thinks that Mag probably remembers different things, like her mother's hand on her cheek, or the smell of her father's cologne. She wonders what she looks like to Mag, what Mag thinks of when she thinks of her. Marni can't imagine what it must be like to always be in darkness, never being able to see the world in front of you. She's been tempted to ask, but she feels awkward about it, so she doesn't.

Marni's father died a long time ago, before the epidemic.

Her mother was a survivor, one of the few people who wasn't affected by the epidemic that wiped out more than half the globe. Neuro-overstimulation Syndrome, the scientists called it, shortened to just NOS for the media. No one knew exactly what caused it, though many tried to explain it. Some blamed the giant biotech companies, others blamed the government. It didn't really matter, because in the end, no one could find a cure. People's organs were failing faster than hospitals could do transfers and the whole world, it seemed, was in chaos.

The disease hit the third world countries first.

Looking back, Marni figured, they probably would have been more prepared if they'd all paid attention. They would have seen it coming. Instead, people just assumed that it had to do with malnutrition and poor living conditions and that it wouldn't spread. They were wrong, of course, but by that time it'd already started hitting the major cities -- Los Angeles, New York, Chicago -- and people had already started dying.

"We're lucky," Mag once said, when they were sitting in the park, enjoying the first real warm days of spring. She leaned her head against Marni's shoulder and sighed, while Marni watched the birds dance and swoop around the edge of the fountain, watched the water fall in a steady stream.

"Yeah?" Marni said.

Mag sighed again. "Mmm. We're survivors."

Marni didn't really think of herself as a survivor.

\- - -

 

She met Mag when they were kids in middle school.

The seats in all of their classes were arranged in alphabetical order by last name. It wasn't a standard, but teachers preferred it this way. Marni hated it, because she always got stuck sitting around people that she couldn't stand. But she thought, hopefully, that maybe this year it would be different, since she was taking higher level classes than most of the people she knew.

She found her seat on the far side left side of the room, throwing her bag down beside her desk and sliding into her seat. Well, at least she could be thankful that she had a window seat for once; usually she got stuck in the middle rows, and that was just the worst. The other students still filing into the room and looking for their seats, Marni pulled a book out her bag and opened it to the page she'd dog-eared, wanting to finish the chapter she was on before class started.

A few pages later she was finished and was tucking the book into her bag while the teacher stood at her desk fumbling with some papers. If she hadn't looked up just then, Marni probably would have missed it as a slight, dark-haired girl made her way into the class. She moved slowly, cautiously, and it took Marni a minute to realize that the girl was blind; she saw the thin, long, white cane tapping out gently on the floor in front of her feet as she walked. The girl stopped a foot or so from the doorway, one hand still resting on the frame.

"Oh, hello," the teacher said, finally looking up and seeing the girl standing there. "You're Ms. DeFoe -- is that correct?"

"Yes," the girl said, and her voice was warm and vivacious. She titled her head to the side when she spoke, like she was looking at something at an angle.

"Here," the teacher said, stepping forward and taking the girl's arm, leading her over to a seat in the front row. Marni watched as the girl's hand extended outward, tracing the outline of the desk with her fingers, before slowly easing herself into the seat.

All through class the girl sat at her desk quietly. She didn't take notes, just sat straight up in her seat and listened intently, head cocked to the side at a slight angle. Every now and then Marni would glance over at her. She couldn't see the girl's face, just her dark brown hair, which fell in waves down her back.

"Hey," she said, after class, shoving her notebook in her bag and running up to the girl after class. "Uh," she said, as the girl slowly turned to face her, expressionless. "Hi," she started again, "sorry, um, it's just, I've never seen you in school before. Are you new?"

The girl smiled. "Hi. And, yes, I just moved to out LA a few days ago."

She shifted her cane to her left hand and extended her right out to Marni. Marni took it, shaking hands with the girl and grinning.

"I'm Marni," she said.

 

 

Mag was from New England, she told Marni that day at lunch. Her father's job had been transferred to Los Angeles and they'd moved into their house less than a week ago. Marni said that she didn't mind moving, but the hardest part was that she had to relearn where everyone was. The first morning she woke up she kept bumping into things, forgetting that she was in a new place.

"That sucks," Marni said, taking a sip of her Diet Coke.

Mag nodded. "But it's not too bad. I just need a few more days to get used to the house. The harder part will be learning my way around school and stuff."

"I can help," Marni suggested quickly. Then, "I mean, if you want me to."

Mag smiled. "You're so nice to me and we've just only met."

Marni shrugged. "You just seem really cool, I guess," she said, crumbling up her napkin and dropping it inside the brown paper bag she'd taken her lunch to school in.

There was something about Mag that Marni found intriguing, but she wasn't going to say that, because she and Mag had only just met, less than two hours ago, and honestly, she thought, how creepy would that be? But there was something about her, something that pulled Marni in and made her want to get to know Mag better. She couldn't really put it into words or even explain it to herself, but there it was.

She wondered what it was.

"Oh," she said, as the bell rang for class. "What class do you have next?"

"History," Mag said, without hesitation.

"Oh, awesome, I've got that class next too. Do you want to walk with me?"

Mag paused, then nodded slowly, one hand gripping the edge of the table and the other her cane and she pushed herself up and away from the table.

"Yes, that'd be nice, thank you."

Marni smiled and slung her bag over one shoulder, dumping her trash in the waste basket. She looked back to see Mag still standing by the table, waiting. Marni flushed and then hurried back over to her.

"Sorry, sorry," she said feeling dumb. "I forgot -- I mean --"

"S'alright," Mag said. She extended her hand to Marni. "Where -- ?"

"Here --"

Mag's hand met hers, slid back until it was resting lightly on her elbow. Marni hesitated.

Mag said, "Don't worry, just walk ahead of me."

It was awkward at first, having to walk at such a slower pace than she was used to. With all the students spilling out into the halls, making their way to class, Marni didn't want Mag to get lost in the crowd; she clutched Mag's hand tightly and led her through the crush of people. They made their way to the staircase on the far end of the building, which Marni figured was probably the least busy, though their class was at the other end of the hall. She let go of Mag's hand, placed it on the railing.

"I'm right behind you," she said, as Mag hesitated.

She wondered if Mag counted the steps in her head, like she did. It was a bad habit, her mother told her, since she counted out loud and made herself look foolish, but it was a habit she couldn't quite break herself of just yet, though she had managed to stop doing it out loud. Mag didn't speak to her as they continued up the stairs; her cane tapped out quietly in front of her, feeling for each step before she took it, her hand gripping the railing tightly.

"How do you do it?" Marni asked later, when they were in class. Mag was in her seat and Marni was perched on her desk.

"What?"

"Class. I mean, you can't -- well, you obviously aren't taking notes, so how do you do it?"

"It's complicated," Mag said. "Well, not complicated, really, just, there are a lot of things that go into it. Usually I just bring my laptop with me to class and take notes that way, but I didn't bring it today because I figured it would mostly be review and introductions and other boring stuff that they do on the first day of school. But, um, yeah, for tests and essays and stuff I can do it all on my computer; I have programs that convert the text to speech for me. Math is a little more complicated and science too, where calculations are involved. I'd go into the methods, but, um, I'd probably just confuse the both of us," she laughed.

Marni said, "Well, you're obviously much smarter than me."

This made Mag laugh again, and Marni grinned.

The bell rang just then, and the teacher had started clearing her throat, so Marni stood up and made her way back over to her desk. Despite mathematics being her favorite subject, she found for some reason that she could not concentrate at all the entire class. She thought of Mag, and blindness, and the way talking to almost a complete stranger wasn't as un-nerving as it probably should have been.

 

 

"So, what do you do, Marni?" Mag asked Marni a few days later when they were sitting outside and eating their lunch.

Marni shrugged. "I don't know. I love reading, so I guess I do a lot of that. I spend a lot of time on the internet, but that's not really anything special since everyone else does that. I don't know -- I guess I'm not really involved in a lot of stuff. My parents are divorced so even though I live with my mom, I spent a lot of my time splitting it between her and my dad. He doesn't live that far away," she added helpfully, "so I usually go visit him and my older sister pretty often."

"It must be nice to have a sibling," Mag remarked.

"Well, I don't really know her all that well," Marni admitted. "She's a lot older than me."

"Still," Mag said. "At least it's something. I mean, I think so anyway."

Marni said, "You're an only child?"

"Yeah. My parents only ever wanted one child, so," Mag said, finishing her sandwich and rolling the plastic wrapping into a ball. "It's really not all that bad; I just like to complain, I guess."

"No, no, it makes sense," Marni told her. "I mean, I'm sort of like an only child too, so I know what you're talking about."

They were quiet for a bit.

Marni ate her sandwich slowly and thought about Mag's parents and their decision to only have one child. They must have been so disappointed, she thought, when they found out that their only child was blind. She was immediately disgusted with herself for thinking such a thing, but supposed that on some awful level it was true. And then she thought about Mag and wondered if she ever felt that way and then decided she was thinking about this too much and that it wasn't good for her to be doing this the third day into a friendship.

"You want to come over this afternoon?" Marni asked finally, after a month.

"I'd like that very much," Mag said, reaching into her bag and pulling out her cell phone. "I'll just have to call my parents and ask them if it's alright. I know I'll probably be fine with you, but they worry."

Five minutes later she'd called her parents and they'd said it was alright, after a great deal of hesitation. "Awesome," Marni said, when Mag told her, and she made plans with Mag to come meet her after her last class.

"I'll come get you and then we can take the bus together. We'll have to hurry though; otherwise there won't be enough open seats for us to sit together. Don't worry, though, my stop is one of the first ones, so we won't have to be on it for very long."

"Oh, I wouldn't mind," Mag said, "but it's nice anyway."

The hardest part was navigating through the hallways and outside after school let out. Marni'd never thought about it before (obviously, she told herself), but if it was this difficult to get around such a place when she could see, she couldn't even imagine how difficult it would be for someone who couldn't. Fortunately, Mag's class was at the end of the hall by one of the lesser-used staircases, so once Marni had picked her up it didn't take long for them to get outside.

"Are you alright, can you still hang on to me?" Marni asked, worried, as they made their way towards the lines of buses.

"I'm fine," Mag said, though she seemed to be gripping Marni's elbow tighter than before.

On the bus, they managed to find an empty seat a few rows back from the front. Mag took the window seat and Marni sat in the aisle.

"I'm glad we got here quickly," she said, "the bus usually fills up pretty fast and ugh, I absolutely hate sitting next to people I don't know."

"I wouldn't know," Mag said, not unpleasantly. "Usually no one ever sits with me."

Marni suddenly felt guilty, as if it were somehow her fault.

"You have a lot of opera songs on here," Marni commented later that day while the two of them were sitting in Marni's room and Marni was scrolling through the songs on Mag's iPod.

"I like opera," Mag said, reclining back on Marni's bed against the pillows. "I sort of. Sing it, I guess, as a hobby."

Marni raised her eyebrows and set aside Mag's iPod. "No way, seriously?"

Mag colored a bit. "Well, I take lessons. I'm not -- well, I'm still a long ways off from becoming some kind of opera singing superstar."

"You take lessons though; that's pretty awesome. And I bet you're awesome, Mag, you're good at everything." Marni grinned. "Besides, I never knew anyone before who sang opera, so that automatically makes you about five times cooler."

Mag smiled. "Well, um, if you want, I can invite you next time I have a concert. I mean, it wouldn't be just me singing, it'd be everyone else who's taking lessons at the same music school as me; it'd be like, a recital. And it's kind of boring, so if you don't want to come --"

"-- No, no, I'd love to come see you sing," Marni said, climbing up onto the bed and lying down beside Mag.

"Really?" Mag said, surprised.

"Yeah," Marni said, and Mag turned to face her. Their eyes met, for an instance, and Marni almost thought like Mag could see right through her, like she was staring into her soul. She hesitated a moment, hand raised in the air, and reached forward and brushed a loose strand of dark hair out of Mag's eyes.

"Of course, I'd love to go," she said quietly. "Of course, of course, of course."

 

 

Marni learned quickly that blind people were rather touchy.

Not touchy in the sense that they took everything as an insult, Mag explained, when Mag made an 'uhh' sound and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was just that because they couldn't see they often tended to touch things a lot. This meant, warned Mag half jokingly, that she would probably touch Marni’s arm or hands a lot. The hands tell you a lot, Mag had said. Like if they're worn and calloused or smooth and soft; it says something about the person. Marni had never put much thought into something like that, but it made sense to have Mag talk about it.

Marni's mother thought it was nice that Marni had finally found an actual friend in school, even though she admitted to being slightly wary about the fact that Mag was blind. Marni didn't really see the issue, as Mag was so much more mature than anyone else her age. Talking to Mag sometimes made Marni feel young and stupid and she had to admit that she liked that; it was refreshing.

"You seemed so shy when I first met you," Marni commented to Mag once. "And then I got to know you and I didn't think you were shy at all."

"Well, it was my first day in a new school," Mag told her. "I mean, I'd been shown around the day before so that I'd have an idea of where to go and what to look for, but that school was a lot bigger than the one I was used to. I guess I didn't really expect there to be so many students, even though I'd been told to."

"You know, you were one of the first people since elementary school that I wanted to be friends with? I don't know, I just remember seeing you and thinking, That girl is special. And I wanted to be your friend instantly. At that time I really wasn't friends with anyone -- I preferred books over a social life, you know how it is -- and I was okay with it."

"And somehow I was the exception." Mag grinned. "I like the way you make it sound, Marni, as if you were this brooding loner and I was the valiant knight who helped you to break out of your shell."

Marni laughed. "Well, yes, I do suppose I'm exaggerating a bit."

"Just a bit?"

"Okay, a lot. But the truth is, I guess, is that appearances can be deceiving. Which sounds lame and reminds me of the stupid essays we had to write back in high school. But I like it when you can find truth in those sayings. It validates them in a way."

Mag sighed and Marni wrapped her arms around her and pulled her down so that they were both lying together on the couch. Marni liked this, just being able to lie here and not say anything. Sometimes she would close her eyes and just listen to the sound of Mag breathing, would put her hand on Mag's chest and feel it rise and fall. Mag liked to tangle her hands in Marni's hair and tuck her head against the slope of Marni's next. They would like this for minutes, sometimes hours even, until the slamming of the front door announced the arrival of Marni's mother and they would move apart and turn on the television.

"You're awfully attached to that girl," Marni's mother commented one evening after Mag had left.

Marni shrugged. "I like her. She's . . . she's different."

"You'll come over all the time over the summer, right?" Marni asked Mag, in spring.

"Of course," Mag said, "if I can. My parents miss the East Coast. They might want to go spend some time at the Cape over the break."

"I've gotten so used to seeing you every day," Marni said. "That it'd be weird to not see you. Which I guess sounds weird in itself, but you know what I mean."

Mag just smiled.

 

 

Mag spent the summer in the Cape with her family as predicted and Marni spent most of the summer at her father's house. She'd never really had much of a relationship with her father, as far as she could remember, and whenever she was over at his house, she always felt more like a visitor than his daughter. She decided then, that she'd use this time to get most of the assigned summer reading done. In general she loathed the idea of required reading; it seemed pointless to her, because forcing her to read books she would have never had any interest in anyway only deepened her dislike of them.

But she trudged through the three assigned books, grudgingly so, regardless.

"I haven't read any of them yet," Mag said to her over the phone, two months into their summer break.

"Yeah, well, you also don't have to read all three," Marni said, though not unkindly.

"I have to do a report on one of them though," Mag told her. "I'd rather just do the reading and be done with it."

"When are you getting back?" Marni asked.

"I don't know. I asked my parents the other day, actually. They said probably a week or two before school. I wish it was sooner, though. Unlike my parents, I find sailing and staying on the beach all day to be profoundly boring. Besides," she added, as a bit of an afterthought, "I miss you. There's no one to hang out with here."

"Trust me, I know exactly how you feel." Marni sighed. "At least you actually get to spend time with your parents. I'm at my dad's house until August and I think I've seen him, oh, six times maybe? He usually just leave some money on the kitchen table with a note -- _sorry sweetie, work_. Ugh."

Mag said, "Well I promise to try and bug my parents to get us back to Cali sooner. And then we can hang out every day before school starts up again -- which reminds me: two things: one, have you gotten your class schedule yet and two, do you want to do a walk through with me a few days before school starts?"

"Well, the answer to your first question is, no, I haven't gotten it yet, but I don't think we're supposed to get it until a week or two before school starts up again. And also, what do you mean, walk through?"

"I mean, I'm going to have someone walk me through the school and point certain markers and things out to me. The point is that that way I can sort of manage to get around school without any assistance. I figured maybe you'd like to come with?"

"Sure," Marni said, delighted at the prospect of being able to figure out where everything was before school began. She'd heard that the high school was like a maze sometime and with so many people attending, she figured it'd probably be best to know what was up so she didn't get completely lost and freaked out on the first day.

"Awesome," Mag said. Then, "Hey, look I have to go. My parents want to go out to dinner or something and I have to get changed. I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure, of course," Marni said. "Have fun with your parents."

"Oh yes," Mag giggled and with a last goodbye, hung up.

Marni was glad to go back to her mom's by the time August rolled around. When her mother asked her how things had been with her dad, Marni shrugged and said they'd been okay, but she preferred to be at home, which was the only truthful bit.

She got her class schedule in the mail four days later.

 _Ugh, Geometry first period_ , she complained to Mag in an e-mail. _And I've got the third lunch block, which sucks. At least I have English to end the day. Oh! and I have last block free, which makes up for everything else._

Marni learned through Mag's response that she also had the third lunch block and English as her last period -- _same teacher, even, how lucky is that_ , Mag had said -- but she didn't have the last block free. _It's fine_ , Marni told her. _I'll make sure to wait around for you._

When Mag finally got back to Los Angeles, a week later, Marni was nearly insane with boredom. She'd had nothing to once she'd finished the assigned summer reading and had spent most of her days watching movies and surfing the internet -- both of which had grown dull after a while. Mag called her two days after she got back and asked her if she was still on for the walk through, since it was happening tomorrow.

"Duh, obviously," Marni'd said, and Mag told her to be at the high school by nine o'clock the following morning.

"Oh, hey," Marni said, right before Mag was about to hang up. "I forgot to ask you last time we talked, but, um, do you want to share a locker? I mean, it'll probably be easier if we both had the same one and then we'd be able to find each other a lot easier. I mean, if you don't want to, it's cool, but -- "

"-- No, no, I'd love to," Mag told her.

"Awesome," Marni said. "So now that we've got that all set -- I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? Bright and early."

Mag chuckled. "Yeah, I'll see you there."

Walk throughs, Marni learned, were harder than she expected.

Granted, she didn't really have to concentrate as Mag, but still, she was impressed that Mag could do it. They had to go slow, Mag had to learn where the stairs were, how many steps there were for each, where her classes were -- not to mention the library, cafeteria, and gym, to name a few place. Marni felt overwhelmed with all the information just going through as a casual observer; she certainly couldn't do it, as she told Mag, and Mag laughed and said if she'd been doing it her whole life, it wouldn't seem quite as bad. "Don't get me wrong," Mag said, "it's not a walk in the park. But you get familiar with some things and I have my own special memory tricks for stuff, so it's not too bad. When I was younger it was a lot harder."

"I still stand by what I said earlier," Marni said. "I certainly could _not do it_."

 

\- - -

 

The epidemic happened faster than anyone could have predicted.

Looking back, Marni thought that she should have realized that her father had started to get sick over the summer. But of course, she hadn't seen him all that much, and when she had seen him, she hadn't been paying attention. Not that it would have done any of them much good anyway; in three months, most people were already dead, and those that weren't were practically counting the days. No one knew what to expect from this disease; was it airborne? Was it passed on through blood or other bodily fluids? Was it sexually transmitted? Since no one could say, the general population panicked, which only made things worse.

Marni remembered the phone call her mother got. She remembered that she heard the phone ringing when she was upstairs in her room, but was too lazy to get up and go answer it. She listened to it ring and ring until finally it stopped; her mother must have picked up downstairs finally. She remembered the silence that followed afterwards, the unusual long kind of silence that you don't really notice is happening at first, until at last it hits you that it's quiet, that you can't hear the sounds you're supposed to hear.

Marni remembered her mother knocking on her door, sitting down on her bed and asking her if she could please turn off her laptop because she had something important to tell her. Her mother said it all in a monotone, eyes unfocused, as if she was looking at something far off and wasn't exactly sure who she was talking to. Marni came and sat on the bed and her mother, in the same tone, told her that her father and sister had just died.

Perhaps, she thought, looking back, she should have cried more.

At first she thought maybe it was a joke, but she couldn't imagine her mother making a joke like that, so the only logical conclusion, she surmised, was that it was all a mistake. But then her mother was putting her face in her hands and crying and everything suddenly came rushing to her, like a picture coming into focus. She remembered that she'd sort of awkwardly patted her mother's back, in an attempt to console her. And she remembered a sort of heaviness, as if the sky was pressing down on her or something, and her stomach was all tied up in knots and her mind was just blank. But she doesn't remember crying, and she finds that the saddest part of all.

Both of Mag's parents died.

For two weeks Marni didn't hear from Mag after Mag's initial phone call, where sobbing, she told Marni what had happened. She was crying so hard that Marni couldn't even make out most of what she'd said, but she'd caught bits and pieces of it -- _can't believe . . . both of . . . dead_ \-- and she felt the urge to rush to Mag's side and hold her until she couldn't cry any longer. And then when she did hear from Mag again, it was because Mag called her up and asked her if she could please come to her parent's funeral, because she couldn't bear to be all by herself.

So Marni had gone and she didn't cry, though Mag clung to her throughout the whole service, cheeks stained with tears and her eyes all red and puffy.

And then half the population was gone, just like that.

It was almost as if one day they woke up and there were billions of humans on the planet, and then the next day when they woke up there were only tens of millions. This, Marni supposed, didn't seem like a huge loss, not really, not at first. But in reality, it was. Entire schools were closed down, businesses. There were streets that Marni used to walk down and see filled with people, families with kids and dogs and white picket fences, but now most of the houses were empty and the streets looked bare and worn-down. Most of what had used to seem important no longer seemed important any more.

Mag went to go live with her aunt and uncle for a bit, per her parent's will. She stayed there for a good part of the year there, and even though she was still in California, she was on the opposite end of the state, and the days and weeks seemed to drag by without her. Life at home was almost unbearable sometimes, with her mother always crying and depressed, and Marni thought angrily that it was stupid to be like that. Her father had been distant; she'd barely ever talked to her older sister. She didn't have any reason to grieve for anyone, she thought, and she wasn't going to pretend that she cared when she didn't.

A year and a half passed and things started to return to normal, or as normal as they could be, anyway.

Marni was a sophomore in high school now.

It was funny, Marni thought, how, regardless of everything that had happened, regardless of all the people who had died, life trudged onwards. She still had to learn mathematics, take notes in her chemistry class, learn lines of poetry for English class. It seemed to Marni as if this aspect of life had been virtually unchanged and then she thought to herself that it was the fact that this part of life remained constant was the perhaps the only thing that kept the world falling apart. They had to go on, she thought, otherwise it would just invalidate the point of living. And if everyone was dead, there would be no one to grieve for those who had passed on, and she considered the fact that this was probably what everyone feared, the not being remembered part.

 

\- - -

 

"Tell me a story," Mag said, as they huddled under the blankets together.

"Like what?" Marni asked, sleepy.

"I don't know, just tell me something," Mag said. "It can be something about you or your family or something you read about once. I don't care. I just . . . I like falling asleep to the sound of your voice."

Marni thought for a bit. "I remember the first time I heard you sing. I remember that I met your parents before the concert, because you'd introduced us before you ran off to go get ready. Those were probably the most awkward three minutes of my life."

They both laughed.

"But seriously," Marni said. "I remember sitting there in the auditorium and thinking to myself, why am I here, I don't even know the first thing about opera, let alone like it. So I was sitting there and I was thinking that maybe I should just leave, because this really wasn't my thing, and I'd probably be bored to tears. And I didn't, but I was.

"And then you came on. Seeing you standing there in the spotlights in your white dress and your hair all done up nicely. And, you know, you had on that bright red lipstick -- I can remember I was in the back and I could still see it all the way from there. You started sing and I thought to myself, oh my god, I get it now, I see why this is such a big deal. Maybe it was just the way you looked or the way you sang the song or something else entirely different, but I found myself sitting up in my seat and listening, really _listening_ , not just with my ears but seeing you and seeing the song in my head and it was like I was hearing music for the first time. When you finished I wished you hadn't, and when I clapped for you I wished I could have given you a standing ovation right there, though I didn't because no one else was standing and I was afraid of looking rather foolish.

"To sum it all up: I was entirely fascinated by you. With you."

Mag kissed her then, softly and slowly, the kind of half-open mouthed kisses that Marni liked best.

"I think it's only fair to say then that when I was singing, I was singing to you," Mag told her softly, smiling. "When I was up on stage, I got really nervous -- I tended to get like that a lot back then -- and I said to myself, just don't even think about the audience. Just pretend that it's just Marni out there and you'll do fine. And I did. And I wondered to myself afterward what you thought and I wanted to ask you, but I was too shy to. I was had a hopeless crush on you back then."

"What about now?" Marni grinned.

Mag chuckled. "Well, not everything changes, you know."

 

\- - -

 

If there was only one good thing to come out of the epidemic (well, good for _her_ anyway, Marni chided herself), it was that property values dropped drastically afterwards, which, of course, meant that Mag's aunt and uncle could now afford to actually live in Los Angeles, instead of one of the suburbs. And, luckily for Marni -- or perhaps because Mag had insisted on it -- they moved into a house right near where Marni and her mother lived. This was good in that now she could see Mag virtually whenever she wanted and that she would be going back to school with Mag.

Another result of the epidemic was that the number of students at school, as well as the faculty, had also dropped dramatically. Marni supposed that perhaps more than half the students were no longer there and it made the hallways seem so empty by comparison. Most of the teachers had either quit or died or moved away -- no one ever quite knew for certain, it was a bit of a delicate subject still -- and thus, there were fewer classes, and Mag and Marni eventually ended up taking both Art, History, and English together. This delighted Marni, of course, though Mag was disappointed that she'd have to take Biology by herself.

"Well, I'm taking Biology too," Marni said, trying to console her. "The same teacher and everything, just at a different time. I'll help you out, alright? And I'm sure you'll do finr in it, it's not as math based as say, Physics. Or even Chemistry, for that matter."

Senior year they only had English together, but Mag optimistically pointed out that they both had lunch at the same time and the last block of the day free, which meant they could leave early, if they wanted. Usually Marni drove them both over to her house and did their homework there, though sometimes they went over to Mag's house instead. Mag preferred Marni's house though, because it was familiar, and Marni preferred her own house because she didn't think Mag's relatives liked her all that much.

Today, Mag was lying on Marni's bed, shoes kicked off in the corner, trying to do homework while Marni said on her computer, idly browsing a few message boards she frequented.

"Can we read it together?"

"What?" Marni asked, looking up from her computer.

"The play," Mag said, tapping the cover of the book in front of her. "You know, _Romeo and Juliet_? I think it would help, since I seem to be having a bit of trouble understanding some of the lines. I've heard that actually hearing the lines being spoken makes them so much clearer. So I figure, if we were going to read it together, I might be able to sort out some scenes."

"Sure," Marni said, closing her laptop and joining Mag on the bed.

"There are actually a few scenes," Mag said, flipping through her Braille copy. "I've got them book-marked -- ah, yeah, this is one of them: the dance scene."

"Oh, I love that scene," Marni gushed. "It's so romantic -- though none of the movies seem to get it right."

"Do you mind doing it?"

Marni shook her head. "Not at all. Who do you want to be, Romeo or Juliet?"

"Who do you want?"

"I don't care. Uh, I'll take Romeo, I guess."

Mag's fingers moved across the page, looking for her first line.

"Ready?" Marni asked; Mag nodded.

Marni took a breath and began: "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

"Also, I think we're supposed to have our palms together here," Marni added after a second, and Mag extended her hand upward so that her arm was at a right angle.

Marni put her hand against Mag's so that their palms were flat against each other.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much," Mag recited, "which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrim's hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss."

Marni didn't even need to look at her book; she knew the lines by heart. "Have saints not lips and holy palmers too?" She said quietly, all at once noticing the softness of Mag's skin.

Mag smiled slightly as she answered, "Aye, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."

"Well, then, dear saint," Marni said, feeling rather warm, "let lips do what hands do -- they pray grant thou lest . . . lest . . ."

Mag's face suddenly seemed very close to hers. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, head titled just to the side and Marni seemed to forget the lines she'd read a thousand times before.

"Lest faith turn to despair," Mag murmured, finishing the line for her, and Marni was overcome with a sense of the sky pressing down on her and she pulled away, letting her hand fall to the bed.

"I-I'm getting a headache," she said quickly, "I think that's enough studying for today. You know it all perfectly anyway," she said, forcing a nervous laugh.

Mag smiled sweetly at her. "You're right; it's a Friday. We have plenty of time to do some more studying over the weekend anyway, if we need to. Speaking of," she went on, "are you busy this weekend? I, um, have a concert on Saturday night. It's really not that big of a deal, I guess, but if you'd like to come --"

"--Are you kidding?" Marni grinned. "Of course I'd like to come! I've wanted to see you sing again ever since that time in seventh grade, only I felt kind of weird about it, you know, like asking for your approval to come see something you invited me too."

Mag ducked her head shyly and said, "Oh, well, you should have said something. I thought . . . Well, I don't know, what I thought. It was stupid, I guess."

Marni put her hand on Mag's. Mag looked up at her, expression un-readable. The light from the setting sun was shining through the half-open curtains and it gave Mag a rather ethereal appearance. And then Marni considered that maybe she was trying a bit too hard to be so poetic and then she thought about saying something, because the room had fallen into an awkward silence, and then she was looking at Mag's face --

"I just want to try something," she murmured, and kissed her.

 

\- - -

Backstage, in the dark after Mag's performance, Marni pressed her up against the wall and kissed her breathlessly.

 

\- - -

 

Mag, of course, wanted to study opera in college.

Marni, on the other hand, wasn't quite sure what she wanted to do, until Mag asked her why she wasn't just majoring in English, because that made the most sense. Mag could have gone to Juilliard, Marni said. She was obviously good enough for it. But Mag, despite Marni's protests, said that she didn't want to leave California.

"But, why?"

"I don't like change," Mag said and wouldn't say anything more about it.

Apparently she didn't either, Marni thought to herself, because she only applied to SFSU and UCSF, which she thought was a statement unto itself. She imagined what it would be like to go to college without Mag, to only be able to see her on breaks or during the summer, and she decided that she would not like something like that. At all. It didn't really help, either, that she still wasn't even sure what Mag was to her.

They were friends. Oh, there was no doubt of that; it was the way they were more than friends, but weren't, at the same time. Marni sometimes thought she knew what they were, but then Mag would touch her hand and it would feel like electricity running through her. She didn't know how Mag felt about her or even what Mag was thinking. If Marni had learned only one thing about Mag over the course of their friendship, it was that Mag generally tended to internalize everything. Which was odd, in Marni's opinion, because Mag didn't really come off as that type of person -- not that she thought Mag had a type, per say, it just seemed very un-Mag-like.

"We should get an apartment," Marni said.

"Why?"

"Ugh, seriously? Two words: dorm rooms. Since we're not going to the same schools, obviously we won't be able to live together, and to be perfectly honest here for a moment, I don't want to be living with anyone else but you." She paused. "Okay, maybe that sounded a little weird. Or a lot weird, I don't know. But, I mean, you get what I'm saying, right?"

"Actually, I'd probably get stuck in a single," Mag said. "It wouldn't be the first time a place wouldn't know what to do with me. People hear I'm blind and they think I need to get all this special treatment and be isolated from everyone else or something equally stupid. But, yeah," she went on, "I can't imagine even living alone. I'd love to get an apartment, Marni, really, if you actually are being serious about this."

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," Marni said, and thus it was decided that they'd get an apartment in San Francisco. Of course, this was easier said than done; even though property values had greatly decreased after the epidemic, they were still just two kids right out of high school, and neither had a lot of money.

Marni's mother knew some people though -- Marni didn't know who or how, but she certainly didn't question it, especially when they ended up with an apartment almost right smack between both of their respective colleges. And so they moved in halfway through the summer, though even after they'd moved in all their things, the apartment still looked depressingly bare. Mag spent the next few days trying to learn her way around their flat, shushing Marni every time Marni tried to offer her advice.

"I have a method," Mag explained, so Marni tried to keep quiet.

There was only one bedroom, a master one, so they put both of their beds in there, side by side. Marni joked and said that it looked like they were a married couple straight out of a '60s sitcom, only Mag didn't know what she meant by that, so Marni had to explain it to her. Which, Marni though, defeated the point of the joke, though it didn't stop her from feeling awfully clever about it.

Sometimes they slept in their own beds, sometimes they shared a bed.

It all depended on their moods and how tired the other one was in respect to the other. Sometimes Mag would wake up to find Marni lying next to her, arms wrapped loosely against her waist, breath warm on Mag's neck. And sometimes she'd wake up and Marni would be gone. (In all reality, it depended more on Marni's mood than Mag's, but Mag liked to pretend that they both had a say in these goings-on.)

Most of the time they spent their days laying on the giant, off-white color couch that Marni had splurged and bought for the apartment. The material was smooth and pleasant and they'd just lie there for hours, sometimes with the television on or with music on or they wouldn't put on anything at all and Marni would just read to Mag. Mag liked to put her head on Marni's chest while Marni read to her, if they were lying down. If Marni was sitting up Mag liked to rest her head on Marni's shoulder, or, if she was feeling rather bold that day, would lie down and put her head in Marni's lap. Marni read everything to her; books, newspapers, magazines, whatever was readily available at the time, Mag wasn't particular. She liked the sound of Marni's voice, the smooth, even tone and flow.

"I have mostly afternoon classes, sorry," Marni said, checking her class schedule online two nights before she was to start school.

"Do you even know where to go?" Mag asked. "I mean, I don't even think you've been on campus once -- you didn't even go to any of the new student orientation things. You are going to be so lost tomorrow."

"So are you," Marni said. "Because you've only done, what, two walkthroughs? No way are you going to remember where to go. Oh, and," she rushed on, not wanting to forget, "you do finish classes at noon, yeah? I'll pick you up then, if it's okay, uh, in front of the school. The main building, I mean."

"Yeah, sure," Mag said, eyes closed, feeling a bit drowsy lying on the couch.

"Let's go to bed," Marni said, closing up her laptop and standing up. She went and took Mag's hand in her own, leading them both to the bedroom. They undressed together, tugging off their t-shirts and jeans and slipping into thin tank-tops and boy shorts. Marni giggled as Mag's hand flitted across her stomach, seeking her out.

"Goodnight." Mag said, as she crawled into her bed, the sheets cool and inviting.

"Goodnight, darling," Marni said.

 

 

"How was the first day of classes?"

Marni looked up from her school books. "If I say amazing, will you hold it against me?"

"Only if you want me to," Mag laughed. "So, you found everything okay?"

"Well, I was kind of lost . . . all day. But! I did eventually manage to find all of my classes, and you know, my teachers, they seem pretty nice so far."

"Well, that's good then," Mag said, sliding into a chair at the kitchen table. "But I'm guessing you have homework tonight, yeah?"

Marni groaned. "Unfortunately, yes. Can you believe we've already been assigned an essay in one of my English classes? I mean, it's due next week, but, still."

"That's what you get for taking a 3000 level course your first semester."

"I don't think it will be difficult, just a lot of work. You're lucky, Mag, you don't have homework."

"Well, I sort of do," Mag said, twirling a strand of hair between her forefingers. "I mean, I have to take music study and theory and I have to learn my music."

"But you're good at that," Marni protested good-naturedly.

"And you're good at English," Mag said. "And let's be honest, both you and I know that you can write essays at the drop of a hat. You'll have no problem at school."

"I wish we could have gone to the same school," Marni said thoughtfully. "I miss having class with you."

"Hey, at least we get to live together," Mag said. "And that's much better than just having class together."

"Yeah. Hey, do you have school tomorrow?"

Mag shook her head. "Thursdays are my off days. Mondays too, sorta. I only have one class then."

"I don't have class until three o'clock tomorrow. You want to get some Chinese or something, sit up and watch some movies to celebrate our first day of classes?"

"As long as we don't have to watch Gattaca. Again."

"Hey!" Marni said, pretending to be offended. "That's an awesome movie."

"Yes, it is," Mag said. "The first time you watch it."

Marni said, laughing, "Fine, fine, I concede."

 

\- - -

 

Marni remembered the way Mag froze at first, hesitant, uncertain.

And then Mag pushed back into the kiss and Marni thought to herself that maybe she was imaging it, because it was more than unbelievable that this was happening. She'd thought about it, of course, on those nights when she couldn't sleep and would just lay awake staring at the ceiling and wonder what it meant that she found Mag's eyes to be an astounding chestnut color and that Mag's Victoria's Secret body spray made her dizzy and almost swoon. But of course, she'd never dreamed of going through with it -- except, she was now, and Mag hadn't pushed her away.

The kiss seemed to go on for forever, Marni imagined, though it was probably in reality only a few seconds.

"I -- " Marni had started to say, then faltered, the moment they broke apart. She didn't really know what to say to follow up something like this and she'd be kicking herself later if she ruined the moment just because she didn't want there to be any awkward silences.

"Was that, um, okay?" Mag finally asked in a subdued tone, looking away, slightly flushed.

Marni said, "It was . . . surprising."

And then she was kissing Mag again; both of them sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing each other, their lips met in the space between them, and Marni was positive then that she was dreaming. Mag's hands moved forward, her fingers tangled themselves in Marni's hair. Marni rested her hand tentatively on Mag's knee, felt the worn denim of her jeans underneath her palm.

And then Marni's mother called up to them, asked Mag if she was staying for dinner, and just as suddenly as it had fallen over them, the spell was broken. Mag pulled away, climbed off the bed. Marni helped her pack her bag silently, mumbled a response as Mag said she had to go, really, she didn't realize that it was so late, and she'd see Marni tomorrow at school, yeah?

The next day, it was as if nothing had happened between them.

It wasn't awkward, like Marni had expected. They simply just didn't talk about the previous afternoon. Marni mentioned a show she'd watched the night before with her mother and Mag told her about how her aunt and uncle had taken her and her cousins out to dinner at a popular new restaurant downtown. And it was fine, it really was, except when their hands would accidentally brush against each other and Marni felt like she would soon explode, if Mag didn't just say _something_. But Mag kept silent, like Marni knew she would.

 

 

Some part of her thought that maybe she should be wondering what it meant that kissing Mag felt good. The logical part of her thought that maybe she should sit down and work out all of these confusing (and yet not so confusing, when Marni was being honest with herself) feelings where Mag and kissing were concerned. The sensible part of her said, alright, she liked Mag. She liked Mag, she liked Mag's smile, she liked the way Mag's hair fell in dark waves about her shoulders. And she liked kissing Mag, perhaps most of all.

She didn't tell her mother.

It wasn't as if she was ashamed or anything, and she certainly wasn't worried about what her mother would say or how she would react, she just didn't see any real reason to tell her.

Okay, so she was bisexual. She decided on this a week after the incident with Mag. She knew she wasn't a lesbian, but she also knew that she was definitely not straight either. So, she told herself firmly, there was only one other possibility left; she accepted it completely and without question. Only, now she wondered what _Mag_ felt about the whole thing and she thought that maybe she should ask -- except, maybe, she told herself, that might seem kind of rude and forward, and yes, they'd been friends for a long time now (since eighth grade actually, which made it five years and some odd days, though Marni wasn't keeping count), but this was probably a delicate subject for people other than herself and she didn't want to go around making assumptions.

But then again, Mag _had_ kissed her back. That was a fact that was completely undeniable, not that Mag was trying to. Sometimes Marni thought about bringing up the subject sometime when they were alone, when they didn't have a thousand other things to do, like papers and exams and recitals and college applications. And then she thought that maybe she would just kiss Mag again and get it over with, which certainly seemed to be the better option, even though its results were rather murky.

But in the end, she didn't have to do anything, because Mag went ahead and did it herself.

"I think . . . I think I may like you," Mag said quietly, backstage after her recital, the two of them over in the corner, away from where everyone else was in the main lobby. Mag took a shuddering breath and said, "And I mean, _like_ you like you, as in, a more than friends kind of way. And okay, I'm sorry if this is weird for you to hear or if it makes you uncomfortable, but I just thought you should know that I -- "

She was cut off as Marni stepped forward and kissed her, pinning her up against the wall.

 

\- - -

Marni hadn't intended to sleep with Mag.

Well, that was not entirely true. She'd _wanted_ to sleep with Mag for a long time now, a bit out of curiosity and a lot because she found Mag simply gorgeous and because she was partly in love with Mag (or so she fancied). But she hadn't meant to do it that night; she'd had this night planned out in her head for a good year or so now and she'd imagined candles and rose petals on the sheets and all those other sort of romantic things that Mag would have laughed at if she'd suggested it.

So instead, she just kissed Mag, and pulled her on top of her, so that Mag was straddling her. And, she told herself, if Mag hadn't gotten the hint by then, she'd simply start un-doing the buttons on her navy-blue blouse. But Mag, fortunately, figured out exactly what Marni's intentions were. (Marni was grateful for this, because her actions seemed very smooth and practiced in her mind, but if she'd had to actually do it, she may have well ripped off all of the buttons on Mag's shirt from nervousness.)

 

 

Marni's lips were softer than Mag had imagined.

They'd kissed before, of course, but that had only been once or twice, back when they were young and awkward high school kids and weren't quite sure what to do. Mag can barely remember what those kisses where like, though she'd always been able to remember how they made her feel. And now all those feelings have come rising up inside her, until it feels to Mag as if she may burst from this great, sudden swell of emotion.

She traced the outline of Marni's lips with her finger tips, before leaning in and pressing her own lips against them. Marni's lips were parted just so slightly; Mag swept her tongue along Marni's bottom lip, felt Marni push more into the kiss. They part for a moment; Mag could hear Marni's breathing, so loud in the sudden silence, and she wished that she could see Marni's face, to be able to know the expression on it, to see herself reflected in Marni's eyes. And then Marni's fingers were threading through her hair and gripping Mag's head and pulling her in to kiss her again and again and again until they both fall apart, gasping.

"Mag," Marni whispered, and Mag felt Marni's lips on her skin, kissing along her jaw line, down the slope of her neck.

Mag sighed, reached forward, put her hands on Marni's shoulders.

Marni's hands went to Mag's waist, holding her still, as her mouth moved to her collarbone.

Mag was shaking when Marni, hands still on her waist, lowered her back onto the bed.

"Don't be afraid," Marni said quietly, and Mag shook her head.

"I'm not," she murmured, "I'm just . . ."

"'S'okay," Marni whispered in her ear, her breath hot Mag's skin.

She could feel Marni's hands as they undid the buttons on her blouse, shivered as the cool night air hit her bare skin. She sucked in her breath as Marni bent her head, dragged her tongue down the flat plane of her stomach. Her hands shot out, searching for Marni, wanting to hold her and press their bodies together and never be separated. Marni caught one of her hands, pressed Mag's palm against her cheek, cradling it. And then she kissed the tips of Mag's fingers, one by one by one, and Mag thought she had never felt anything so lovely before.

Marni undressed Mag slowly, undoing the clasp of her bra, undoing the belt and button on her jeans and tugging down the zipper; she drew them down the length of Mag's legs until Mag kicked them off and onto the floor. Marni, still clothed, hovering above her on hands and knees, kissed her again, rougher this time. Mag groaned as one of Marni's hands went to her breast, cupping it, her thumb brushing lightly over her nipple, and Marni slipped her tongue inside Mag's mouth. Marni tasted like cinnamon and Mag arched up into her.

"Steady now," Mag heard Marni chuckle and felt Marni pull away from her.

"Marni, come here," she pleaded, heart racing.

"Shh, I'm right here," Marni said and Mag could hear a slight rustling of clothes as Marni undressed herself.

When Marni fell against Mag again, pressing their bodied together, Mag tangled her hands in Marni's hair, brought their mouths together and kissed her again. She could feel Marni's knee pressing against her and she wrapped a leg around Marni's waist, trying to pull her in even closer.

Marni's hand snaked between their bodies; she pressed her fingers against Mag, moved her thumb in small, patient, circles, as she bent her head and took one of Mag's nipples in her mouth, sucking on it slowly, kneading it with her tongue. Mag cried out and one hand went to clutch a fistful of sheets while the other pressed against Marni's back desperately.

Afterwards, when Mag was still trying to catch her breath and her body was still tingling from the work of Marni's fingers, Marni dropped her head and kissed Mag's shoulder, trailed feather-light kisses down the length of Mag's arm. Mag sighed and her searching fingers found Marni's hand, intertwining their fingers.

"I want to --" she said, still a bit short of breath, and Marni didn't say anything, just pulled Mag on top of her, and guided one of Mag's hands to the space between her leg, while the other one she brought up to her breast, letting it rest there. Mag bent her head kissed the space between Marni's breasts, kissed up to the hollow of her throat. Marni groaned as Mag's fingers moved harder against her and Mag's mouth captured her bottom lip in a kiss.

They moved together on the bed quietly, Marni gasping and moaning and biting her lip so hard that she drew blood, as Mag's fingers never slowed, sucking on a spot on her neck. When she finally peaked, arching her back and crying out Mag's name, behind her eyelids she could see stars, little white flashes that remind her of fireworks going off on the Fourth of July.

"You left marks," Marni said, not unkindly, when she was finally able to catch her breath and her body was aching as if she'd just run a marathon.

"Sorry," Mag said, and when Marni leaned forward and kissed her chastely, she could feel Mag's lips turning up into a grin.

Marni grabbed the blankets and sheets up and drew them up around them and then wrapped her arms around Mag, pulled her in close. Marni's skin was warm and flushed; Marni pressed a kiss against her shoulder, moved her fingers in wide, lopsided circles along the small of Mag's back. Mag sighed and closed her eyes, a half smile on her face. Marni grinned and kissed Mag again.

"You're beautiful," Marni told her, quietly.

"I love you," Mag said.

 

\- - -

It's that thing they don't talk about.

Mag isn't really certain whether or not this is a comforting thing. On one hand, she wishes that she could just say it again; maybe it wouldn't be as meaningful the second time around, like it was just something that got worn out if you used it too much. Maybe Marni wouldn't just keep talking as if she hadn't heard a thing and making Mag think that maybe she was just imaging herself saying the words instead of actually saying. And then there's another part of her that tells her never to say it again, to just keep it to herself, just play along and never show what she felt on the inside. She wanted to throw open the windows to their apartment and scream it into the night on some idle Thursday, but she told herself to bite her tongue and reserve such declarations for herself when she was alone, spoken under her breath or into her pillow.

Marni, for her part, acted as if nothing had happened and it frustrated Mag almost more than she could bear. She wished she could have seen the look on Marni's face, that she could have seen what had registered in her eyes, be it shock or affection or _whatever_ \-- Mag didn't like this not knowing, this blank space in her thoughts where she kept trying to fill in what Marni thought about the whole thing -- a space which she couldn't seem to fill. She wanted to grab Marni and kiss her and maybe the words would come tumbling out of Marni's mouth as well and then Mag wouldn't feel --

\-- She knows Marni won't say it.

She knows Marni cares about her; there's no questioning that.

It's just the kind of caring that bothers Mag. These come here, go away sort of romantic inclinations. She didn't like being able to kiss Marni but be forced to keep her emotions unspoken. She should have been able to say the words and not have to instantly worry about whether or not they'd be alright to say.

After dinner Mag was sitting down on the couch and reading a book, when she felt the cushions shift as Marni sat down beside her. Marni didn't say a word, just reached around and rested her hands on Marni's, as her fingers danced across the page with practiced skill. Marni liked to feel her read; she told Mag once that she thought it felt nice, peaceful, even if she didn't have a clue what Mag was reading.

"How was class today?" Mag asked, after a moment, her fingers stopped.

"Alright," Marni said. Her breath was hot against Mag's ear and Mag had to resist the urge to shiver. "I hate mathematics, I really do. I'll never understand why you need to know them if you're not in a major that depends on them. They think it makes you a well-rounded individual, but it doesn't. As soon as this class is over I won't even remember half the stuff I learned away."

Mag smirked. "You're only saying that because you hate the teacher."

"And the subject," Marni admitted freely. Then, "I wish you were in the class with me."

"I wouldn't understand a thing."

"But it would be fun," Marni said. "It'd be like in high school, remember?"

Mag said, sounding a bit more annoyed than she cared for, "I don't see what would be fun about me taking a class which I would fail miserably at. It would be stupid and humiliating."

She felt Marni pull away from her.

"God, you're snippy tonight," she said and Mag frowned.

"I'm sorry." She rubbed her temple. "It's just school," she lied. "You know, with the recital coming up and all."

Marni rubbed her arm awkwardly. "Oh, right, I forgot about that. Sorry."

"No, no, it's alright," Mag marked the page in her book with a napkin and stood up, forcing a yawn. "I'm just really tired. I think I'm going to go to bed."

Mag heard Marni stand, stiffened slightly as Marni wrapped her arms around her. Her heart was pounding in her chest as Marni kissed her on the cheek like she always did, and she hoped her face wasn't giving away any sign that this little show of affection of Marni's was almost unbearable now. Before it wouldn't have meant anything to her. Marni could have kissed her and they would have gone to bed and stayed up half the night, writing lines from novels on each other's skin with their fingers, and it would have been alright, it wouldn't have meant anything.

Everything is different now though, it's all changed, in the subtle kind of way that Mag hates, the kind of change that creeps up on you and you don't notice that it's there until it's too late to try and stop it. And when Marni says goodnight, she doesn't add that she'll be joining Mag in bed in half an hour. And when Mag says goodnight, she doesn't expect Marni to.

But that's something they don't talk about.


	2. Part Two

she imagines him imagining her. this is her salvation.  
\-- the blind assassin, margaret atwood

 

Mag remembered a book, one that Marni read to her once when they were juniors in high school. Oryx and Crake, it was called, and it was one of Marni's favorite books. She had insisted on reading it out loud to Mag, a chapter a day. When Mag had protested that she could just listen to it on CD, Marni had just laughed and said it was too boring to do it that way, and besides, she wanted to read it again. It was a few years later when Mag found a braille version of it; she remembers tracing her fingers over each letter, each sentence, and hearing Marni's voice in her head the whole time, low and smooth and quiet.

Marni liked the book, she said, because it wasn't too different from what was going on now.

It made Mag feel uneasy, to think of it like that, true as it may be. There was something unnerving about the events of a book written in the twentieth century being remarkably similar to current events. Granted, there were differences. They were hardly all being exterminated by some mad scientist and the biotech corporations had gotten quite so wild, but there were similarities, and it was creepy. Mag preferred not to think about it.

"I wonder if one day they'll be able to clone retinas,"" Marni said once, when they were on their way to class. "I mean, I know that cornea transplants have been around for a while, but."

Mag frowned and kept on walking, sweeping her cane across the hallway floor, trying to not lose focus and trip over a book or someone's bag. Usually when they were walking together Marni was her eyes. She'd link their arms together and lead the way. But in school it was harder, mostly because they didn't share every class together and Marni, too lazy to just walk back to her locker between classes, just carried all her books and notebooks with her the whole day.

"I'd like that, new corneas," Mag said, once they were seated in the lecture hall. "And retinas. I can't imagine what it would be like to see the world."

"It's very . . . bright." Marni said with a laugh. "Sorry, I don't know how to explain it to you. I can't tell you what it's like to see such a mix of reds and yellows and oranges in autumn, because you don't know what those colors look like. I can't tell you to imagine the sky on a cloudy day, how it's this brilliant blue color."

Mag heard her sigh.

"In my head, everything's all just sort of there," Mag said, "like, it exists, but I don't have a clear picture of it in my mind, if I have a picture of it at all. I can feel things, taste them, smell them, hear them, but it's not the same. I want to be able to see what the ocean looks like, not just feel the water pooling around my ankles or smell the salt in the air."

Marni said, "If there's ever a way to get you to see Mag, I promise I'll do everything I can to help you."

Mag reached forward, searched with her fingers until she found Marni's hand, taking it in her own.

 

\- - -

 

"I don't like your new boyfriend," Mag said, sitting cross-legged on her bed in her pajamas, as Marni brushed her teeth in the bathroom.

Marni spit out her mouthful of toothpaste into the sink, wiped her hand on her mouth. "Why?" she said, setting down her toothbrush and turning off the water, making her way back into the bedroom.

Mag reached backwards, felt for the edge of her comforter, crawled back and slid herself under the sheets and blankets. She propped her head up on her head, looked over in the direction of Marni's voice.

"I don't know," Mag said, after a minute, as she heard the sounds of Marni getting ready for bed; the click as she set down her watch on the nightstand, the rustle of sheets as she climbed into bed. "There's just something about him that I find off-putting. Something in his voice."

She heard Marni laugh, from the bed beside her. "I think you're jealous."

"I'm not," Mag said, a bit too forcefully for her own liking, rolling onto her back. "I'm just saying, I don't like him."

Marni sighed. "Give it time, alright? You only just talked to him on the phone. Come out with us sometime. You'll see; he's not as bad as you think he is."

"No thanks," Mag said, closing her eyes and wishing somewhat that she'd just kept her mouth shut in the first place. She had never liked meeting any of Marni's boyfriends before, and she had no intention of meeting this one. There was always something awkward about it, the shaking of hands, the voice that she couldn't put a face to. She thought about sitting in bed at home, alone in the dark, waiting for Marni to come back so that she could see again.

She lay there still for what seemed like hours, until she heard the soft, shallow breathing that told her Marni was finally asleep.

 

"You really should come meet him," Marni said the next day at the breakfast table. "I'm not going to force you to, but I think you should. You'd like him."

"I'm sure we'd have lots to talk about," Mag said into her cereal. "Yes, we'd just hit it off right away."

"I don't understand why you're being so negative about this," Marni said, as she poured herself another cup of coffee. "He really is a nice guy."

"Who's also twenty years your senior. I find that rather off-putting.Also, he has children." She narrowed her eyes. "Have you even met his children?"

Marni sighed. "No, but, what does that matter? It's not like I'm going to marry him or anything, Mag. I find him sweet, yeah, but I'm not in love with him."

Mag frowned and was quiet for a bit.

Marni turned her attention the the newspaper lying discarded at the end of the table. She reached for it, flipped through it half-heartedly. "Oh, look," she said conversationally, skimming an article on the front page. "Apparently GeneCo's making some huge breakthroughs with their products."

"Oh," Mag said, not really paying attention.

"No, seriously, listen," Marni said, reading the rest of the article. "They're talking here about surgery and blindness and they think they may have found a way to cure it. There's some stuff in here about corneas too, I think. Mag, this is --"

"Old news," Mag finished for her, slightly annoyed. "Cornea transplants have been around since the twentieth century. I need new corneas and new retinas."

"But that's what I'm saying," Marni insisted. "It says here that they think they've finally found a way to clone them. The whole surgery process is still pretty tricky right now, so that's still all up in the air. But they've figured out how to do it; it's all a matter of perfecting the process now. See, Mag," she said, putting down the newspaper and putting her hand on Mag's arm. "Now you have to meet Rotti. He owns GeneCo -- I mean, I'm sure he could tell you all about it."

Mag hesitated. Then, slowly, "Well, I. I suppose I could."

"You should."

 

So three days later Marni was driving them to GeneCo's main headquarters in central Los Angeles so that she and Mag could go have lunch with Rotti. They were meeting at his office first, though, so that Marni could show her around the place. And then, Rotti had told Marni over the phone when she'd called him the day before, they could have Rotti's personal chauffeur drive them all to restaurant downtown.

"So this is Mag," Mag heard a man -- obviously Rotti, she told herself -- saying.

"Yes," Marni said with a smile and put her hand on Mag's shoulder.

Mag stuck her hand out awkwardly, because it seemed like the right thing to do. Thankfully Rotti got the idea and shook hands with her, his grip firm and strong.

"You know, I actually have had the pleasure of hearing you sing," he said.

"Oh?" Mag was surprised. "When?"

"It was, oh, perhaps four or five years ago," Rotti said. "I believe it was in Italy. You were with a touring company then, yes?"

"Oh, yes!" Mag said, smiling at the memory. "Yes, I do remember that show. I remember the conductor congratulating us because it was the last stop of the world tour. You were lucky to have seen it," she went on. "I heard that tickets sold out months in advance; the conductor is renowned worldwide."

"And yet, the only part of the performance I can remember is yours," Rotti said, and Mag felt herself flushing.

"Well," she said then, because she couldn't think of any way proper to reply to such a compliment.

"See Mag," Marni whispered in her ear as they made their way downstairs to where Rotti's chauffeur was waiting with the car. "I told you he was alright, even if he is a bit of a flatterer."

"Okay, I admit it, you were right," Mag whispered back, rolling her eyes.

"So, Mag," Rotti said later, when they were all seated in the restaurant, drinks in front of them and their orders taken. "Marni tells me that you've been blind since birth."

"Unfortunately, yes," Mag said. "Or maybe fortunately. Sometimes I think the trade-off for my eyes was my voice. I've always lived without sight; I can't imagine living without music though."

Rotti made an agreeable sort of sound and Mag couldn't quite judge what he thought of her.

Marni said, "But I was just reading about GeneCo's new breakthroughs with retina cloning -- remember Mag, I was telling you about that? -- it'd be fascinating to hear some more on the subject from the owner of GeneCo himself."

"Oh, well, GeneCo's been working on that sort of thing for years now," Rotti said and it sounded to Mag like talking about his company's achievements was the thing he liked to talk about most. "We're trying to cure everything, you know. Someday there won't be anyone who is blind or deaf or anything like that. We're working to solve all of the problems that may result from," he paused, "well, unfortunate genetics.

"But speaking about eyes," he went on, "we've actually come up with the most ingenious thing, if I do say so myself. It's been in design for years now but we think we've finally perfected it."

"What is it?" Marni asked curiously.

"Digital corneas."

 

\- - -

 

Marni met Rotti at a benefit dinner.

 

The publishing company that she worked for as an editor was hosting it. It was for cancer or something or other, one of those diseases that they still had managed to find a cure for, despite several recent scientific breakthroughs. Either way, Marni didn't care, because she didn't really want to go to this; she didn't like having to dress up and pretend to be all social. It didn't fit her. Besides, Mag had a recital the next day and she knew Mag would just be a nervous mess tonight -- she always got like that, no matter how many times she performed -- and she wanted to be at home trying to soothe her worries.

But her boss had not so subtlety suggested that it would be in Marni's best interests to attend tonight's event and thus, she had ended up here, sitting at a table in the back, nursing a tall glass of rum and coke and pretending to look interested.

A man, older than himself, suddenly slid himself into an empty seat beside Marni.

Marni was just about to protest (really, how rude could one get, just assuming that because there was an empty chair he could just sit in it without asking for any sort of permission first), when the man smiled at her and said, "I hope you don't mind me resting here for a moment. I keep getting caught up in conversations and I haven't had a chance to sit down once tonight."

"Oh it's alright," Marni said, waving her hand dismissively.

"I'm Rotti Largo," the man said, holding out his hand.

"Marni Thompson," Marni said.

"If you don't mind me saying, Marni, you appear to be quite bored."

Marni shrugged. "Social events aren't really my thing."

"I know what you mean; I don't care for them much myself. Unfortunately, in my field of work and position, they're rather inevitable."

"Oh yeah?" Marni asked, feigning interest. "And what do you do for work?"

"Well," Rotti said, as if it was the most normal thing ever, "I own GeneCo."

Marni nearly choked on her drink. She put her glass down and sat up.

"Seriously?" She asked, looking at him incredulously. "What -- why are you here?"

Rotti said, "Well, my company is one of the sponsors, so."

"Oh. Oh," Marni said, realization dawning on her, "that makes a lot of sense, actually. But still, don't you have more important things to do? I mean, you are the owner. Couldn't you just send someone else to come and socialize for you?"

"Well, I was asked personally to speak tonight," Rotti said and Marni nodded. "But enough about me," Rotti continued, "I'm not all that interesting, I can assure you. Why don't you tell me something about yourself -- what you do, why you're here; you know, the usual conversation starters."

Marni grinned. "Well, I'm here pretty much because I have to be. And let's see, I work for Price & Price -- that's the publishing company here tonight, but you probably already know that, so -- and I'm an editor. Uh, I've been doing it for a while now. I hope to be an executive editor soon, if I'm lucky. And uh. That's it."

"Do you like it, what you do?"

Marni shrugged. "I guess. I mean, it's what I'm good at. So I guess, yeah, I like it." She paused. "Do. Do you like what you do?"

Rotti grinned at her. "You know, I've never been asked that, but, yes, I do. My father started the company long before the epidemic so I've been involved in the company for a very long time, as you can imagine. Granted, it was much smaller when he owned it, more like a subsidiary. When I got out of college I took control of the company and built it into the renowned company that it is today." He paused. "But I like working to better the world, which I knows sounds kind of lame, but it's true. There's a certain satisfaction you get when you realize you've created something that will help countless numbers of people."

"Oh, well, GeneCo's a worldwide organization," Marni said. "I think it doesn't even need to be said that it's done marvelous things for humanity, especially after the devastation caused by the epidemic."

Rotti smiled at her.

"Oh," he said, looking at someone behind her, giving a half-hearted wave. "I guess I'm being called back. Do you -- I mean, I hope I can talk to you again sometime. You seem like a very sweet and intelligent individual."

"Looks can be deceiving," Marni joked, but she blushed.

 

\- - -

 

A week later she received a call at work from Rotti, who apologized for seeming rather stalkerish, but he had asked her company for her phone number and they'd simply put her through. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her since that night, which Marni found rather flattering, despite herself. They made plans to have dinner at a new restaurant downtown, nine o'clock, that Friday.

When Mag asked her what her plans were for the evening, Marni was purposefully vague, saying that she'd been invited out to dinner, it was no big deal, really, and that she would be back later. She tried to tell herself that she wasn't really lying to Mag, because she had been invited out to dinner. Only it was kind of a big deal, because it was with Rotti Largo, the owner of GeneCo, and well, that wasn't something that happened every day.

But she knew Mag would make a big deal out of it, which is why she refrained from saying so.

At dinner, Rotti is cordial and nice and not anything like Marni had expected. After all, yes, he'd been nice when they had talked a week ago, but that had only been for a few minutes and she had supposed Rotti was just trying to be nice. She didn't think that he'd be sweet in real life, but he was, and it surprising, though certainly not in a bad way.

"I live with a girl, Mag," Marni was telling him as their appetizers arrived.

Rotti raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, it's nothing like that," Marni lied, flushing slightly and looking away. "I mean, um, she's blind and we've been best friends for years. She doesn't have any family -- her parents died in the epidemic and any other family she has she's been out of touch with for years now -- so I'm kind of her family. We're almost like, sisters, really; we're very close. I've known her since, oh, eighth grade."

"What does she do?" Rotti asked, taking a sip of his chardonnay.

"She's an opera singer," Marni said, a bit pridefully. "She was a prodigy when she was younger, though she's certainly even more brilliant now. Perhaps you've heard of her? Um, her last name is DeFoe. Magdalene DeFoe."

Rotti's eyes widened a bit. "Actually, I have heard of her," he said and Marni stared at him.

"No way. Seriously?"

Rotti nodded and smiled and Marni suddenly felt very relaxed and comfortable around him.

"Do you mind if I escort you home?" Rotti asked, a bit shyly, Marni thought, when they were standing outside of the restaurant after dinner.

"Oh, well, I drove," Marni said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the parking garage across the street. "But, um, maybe next time?"

Rotti brightened at this. "Yes, next time then."

As they parted, Rotti said, "I'll call you in a few days, is that alright?"

"Yeah," Marni said with a smile, nodding, before crossing the street.

So Rotti was nice. He was a bit older than Marni liked, but he was smart and he was worldly and that appealed to her. She liked the way he was very serious most of them time; it reminded her of Mag in a way, both of them and their rational sensibilities. Still, she didn't tell Mag about Rotti until she'd been on her third date with him, although, she attempted to rationalize to herself, they hadn't officially been dating until then, so it wasn't as if she'd been keeping it a secret from Mag.

(That was a lie, she was nervous that Mag would be jealous and un-approving, which is why she kept being deliberately vague about where she was going.)

And then when she did tell Mag, Mag pursed her lips and didn't say anything until the next evening, when she told Marni that she had no claim over Marni and if Marni wanted to go out and date, it was fine with her. She said it all in a smooth, even tone, and Marni wasn't sure if she meant it or not, but decided then that Marni wouldn't have said anything if she really did object to the idea of Marni being with Rotti. The fact that Mag was being agreeable, if only because she forced herself to be, was a huge relief to Marni.

One evening Rotti called when Marni was still at work.

Mag picked up the phone, answering with a curt, "Oh, hello," when Rotti introduced himself.

"Is Marni there?" He asked and Marni shook her head before telling him shortly, no, she was still at wok, perhaps he should try her there or just call back tomorrow.

"Oh, well, alright," Rotti said, sounding a bit put off. "Thank you."

There was something in his voice that Mag found off-putting, a hint of anger in his tone that she found rather displeasing. She thought to herself that maybe she should just keep quiet about it; after all, there was no point in bringing it up, because Marni would most likely jump to conclusions and then she was purposefully being disagreeable about this, and the last thing she wanted to do was fight.

So instead, when Marni came home, she told her that Rotti had called and asked her if he had called her at the office like she had suggested. Marni had shook her head and said no and replied that he would probably just call her back tomorrow, perhaps he had been afraid of interrupting her from working on something important.

"Yes, that's probably it," Mag said quietly and didn't bring up the subject of Rotti again for a good week, unless Marni said something, and then she just deflected the conversation.

 

"You know, I think you're very sweet," Marni told Rotti at dinner.

Rotti beamed at her.

They were eating dinner at an up-scale restaurant near Rotti's home that he had said was his favorite place to go. Marni had to admit that it had a sort of charm to it, even if it did smack a bit of trying too hard. She sipped on her glass of champagne and said, "Don't take this the wrong way, because I certainly mean it in the best way possible, but, well, you're sweeter than I would have ever expected."

"Oh? What did you expect me to be like?" Rotti asked.

Marni shrugged. "I don't know. I thought maybe you were just being charming as a put-on. I didn't exactly expect you to actually act like that in real life. I mean, well," she flushed. "From what I've always read about you -- "

" -- Don't believe everything you read in the newspapers. Journalists tend to exaggerate."

"Well, yes. But, I mean. Well, I don't know what I mean. But you've surprised me. And I like it. A lot, actually." Marni smiled at him across the table. "And I like you a lot too, Rotti."

"So, am I to expect that this is going to be a regular thing, then?" Rotti asked hopefully. "You and I?"

Marni nodded, her smile widening.

Outside, it was raining.

Under the restaurant's canopy, Rotti leaned in and kissed her. She didn't expect it to be all fire works and swelling orchestra music in the background, but it was nice, and when he pulled her closer to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel one of his hands on her back and another on his hip, heavy, but not forceful; she sighed and leaned into him. When he pulled away, she could feel his eyes sweeping over her face, looking for a reaction. Instead, she just grinned and kissed him again.

 

"Hey, where were you last night?" Mag asked, looking up from her bowl of oatmeal, when Marni arrived back home the next morning, tossing her keys on the end table in the hall and kicking off her shoes.

"With Rotti," she said cheerfully, as she kissed Mag on the cheek and slid down into the chair beside her.

Mag rolled her eyes and said, "Of course, I should have known."

"He's very nice," Marni told Mag, before adding, rather suggestively, "and he's good. At a lot of things."

"Okay, no, stop," Mag said, finishing her oatmeal and standing. "I do not want to hear about this at nine o'clock in the morning." She paused, depositing her bowl in the sink. "Or ever, really."

"Oh, shut up," Marni said, but she was grinning.

"Aren't you going to be late for work?" Mag asked, sitting back down again.

Mag shook her head and said, "No, I decided to take the day off. You have today off, right? I thought maybe we could do something. Like, I don't know, go to the beach or something. We haven't been there in forever. Or maybe go see a movie. I mean, whatever you want."

"No, I think the beach would be a good idea," Mag said slowly, sipping her tea. "God, you're right,we really haven't been there in forever, have we?"

"I think the last time we went was back in oh, freshmen year of college."

"That's just sad."

Marni said, "I know. Which is why we should start getting ready. I want to spend the whole day lying out on the sand in the sun and getting a terrific tan."

"Tanning can give you cancer," Mag pointed out good-naturedly.

Marni sighed dramatically. "Then I'll get cancer. At least I'll look hot."

"You always look hot. Or, well, you seem hot to me."

"You're just saying that to make me feel good," Marni said, but she put her hand on Mag's thigh and leaned in to kiss her.

At the beach, Mag reclined in a chair, listening to opera on her iPod (the newest model; Marni had given it to her last week as a surprise present, and also, Mag thought, as a thank you gift for not starting a fight about Rotti) under their umbrella while Marni dozed in the sun. She was nearly asleep herself when she felt someone tug one of her earbuds away.

Marni said, breath hot against Mag's ear, "Come on, let's go in for a swim."

Mag turned off her music. "Only if you promise not to let me drown."

"Aw, where's the fun in that?" Marni teased.

In the water, Mag refused to get her hair wet, until Marni tackled her and forced them both under the water. Coming up for breath, gasping, Mag glared at her, wiping the water out of her eyes. Marni just smiled and hugged her, pressed her lips to Mag's neck, collarbone.

 

\- - -

 

"Can you imagine that?" Marni said, "Digital corneas and all that other stuff he was talking about?"

"It seems pretty fantastic," Mag said. "But I wonder if they'll ever even get out of testing. Didn't Rotti say that they still had a ways to go?"

"Rotti always says stuff like that. GeneCo works for years on projects before anyone even hears a whisper about it. They're very tight-lipped about that sort of thing. I guess they like to make their competitors think that they're not making anything new."

"Well, regardless, it'll probably be a while before they're out." Mag paused. "That would be something though, wouldn't it? I mean, being able to see. Not that the whole digital cornea thing isn't brilliant in itself. I just think that the seeing part's the most important."

"Mmm."

"Well, like I told Rotti when you were in the bathroom, if they ever do get developed, I want to be the first one signed up."

"Oh, don't worry, I'd be up at the crack of dawn to get you there." Marni grinned. "Oh, wait, that's right, I thought of something the other day and I totally forgot to mention it to you now: I think we should get a pet."

"A pet?"

"Yeah, like, a cat or something, I don't know. I think it'd be fun."

"You don't really seem like you'd be good with pets, Marni."

Marni put her hands on her hips. "Excuse me, Mag, but I happened to be amazing with animals. I had a fish once, when I was like, ten, and that thing lived for forever."

"Really?" Mag asked, incredulous.

"Okay, well, it last six months," Marni said quickly. "But it so was not my fault. Okay, it sort of was, but I was ten! It so does not count. Besides, I loved that thing to death. I just forgot to rinse out the bowl all of the way after cleaning it before I put the fish back in."

Mag laughed. "Oh, dear."

"But, a cat would be awesome!" Marni said excitedly.

"And a lot of work," Mag pointed out. "We're both so busy; how will we possibly be able to take care of itself."

"Cats are very, um. Self-reliant."

Mag rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm not saying we have to get one," Marni said, standing up and stretching. "I was just suggesting it. I mean, I don't know, I think it could be kind of cool, to be able to share something like that."

"We already share everything," Mag said, but then she said, "but I'll think about it, alright? Maybe after I get my eyesight -- and by that I mean, if I ever do get a chance to have surgery to gain sight. It would probably be easier then anyway. I mean, you know how disagreeable cats can be sometimes. I'd always be afraid of stepping on its tail or accidentally sitting on it."

Marni giggled. "Well, yes, you do have a point there. Alright," she said, plopping herself back down onto the couch and kissing Mag playfully on the cheek. "You think about it."

 

\- - -

 

"So, does this mean you're really going to go through with it?" Marni asked that night.

"I signed the paperwork with Rotti, didn't I?"Mag said, tugging off her shirt. "I go into the hospital for it in a week. They said there might be some complications with it, the surgery, I mean, but they said the risk is very low. I'll have to stay in the hospital for a few days afterwards to make sure my body doesn't reject the new materials."

"But you're going to be able to see."

"Haha, yes, I am," Mag grinned ridiculously. "Honestly, I can't even think right now. I mean, I would have never thought -- well, I always assumed I'd be blind my whole life. Not that that was such a bad thing, but, wow, can you actually believe I'm finally going to be able to see?"

Marni came and put her arms around her.

"I'm so happy for you, Mag," she said, and kissed the bridge of Mag's nose.

"Come sleep with me tonight?" Mag asked hopefully. "I mean, I think I'll be too excited to sleep, but how many times will we be able to just lie in bed and cuddle after the operation?"

Marni laughed. "We'll still be able to do it then."

"No, I don't think so," Mag said, attempting to be serious and failing miserably. "You'll say, Oh, Mag, I would, but you're just a normal now, I don't know if I can stand to be around you."

"You say that as if you'd ever be normal."

Mag kissed her, laughing.

"Everything's happening so fast," Mag remarked quietly, later, when they were in bed together. She had her arms wrapped around Marni's waist and Marni was absentmindedly stroking Mag's arm with her thumb.

"Mmm," Marni managed sleepily.

Mag took a breath, then, "What happens if everything changes after this, Mag?"

"Everything will change, darling," Marni told her. "It always does. How could it not?"

"Don't leave me," Mag said, suddenly feeling desperate and panicky in her drowsy state. "Please."

Marni kissed Mag's forehead softly.

"Never," Marni said. Another kiss. "Never, never, never."

 

Waking up for the first time, really waking up, and being able to see the sunlight, was perhaps the most shocking thing of all. Mag squinted as her eyes adapted to the light for the first time in her life ever, and she felt the sting of tears. She blinked rapidly for a few moments to clear them away, eyes finally adjusting to the sudden brightness.

And then Mag saw the young woman sitting in a chair just beside her bed. She was tall and slender and had one leg crossed over the other. The girl had long, black hair that fell about her shoulders in waves, framing a pale face. The girl was deeply engrossed in her book; Mag watched her for a second, noted the bright red dress shirt she had on, and her worn and tattered blue jeans. The girl's lips were parted and they seemed to be moving ever so slightly as she hurriedly turned a page of her book.

She didn't even have to hear the girl speak to know who she was.

"Marni," she said.

The girl looked up quickly; their eyes met for the briefest of seconds.

"Mag," Marni said, her face breaking out into a smile.

 

The first day Mag could see, they didn't talk.

They didn't need to; they'd spent their entire lives talking to each other. Instead Marni just crawled up onto Mag's hospital bed (which was technically against hospital rules, but no one would have said anything anyway) and lay down beside her. Mag's eyes never strayed from Marni's face. She took in every detail; every the way Marni's eyes could be green one moment and brown the next, the way Marni's lips glistened with lipgloss under the fluorescent hospital lighting, the lines on her palm that she traced over and over again with her hands.

The second day Marni came in as soon as visiting hours were allowed, purse slung over one shoulder, twirling her car keys as she walked into the room.

"Good morning," Mag said cheerfully when Marni entered.

"Morning," Marni said, dropping her purse and keys down on the small dresser across from Mag's bed. She tugged off her thin jacket and laid it down next to her other things, before turning around and facing Mag, hands stuffed into the the back pockets of her jeans.

"Well, look at you and your automatic eyes," Marni said with a grin.

"What?" Mag asked pleasantly.

"Oh, uh, it's from some song. One of my mom's favorite bands sang it. God, she used to play that CD all the time when I was younger."

Mag chuckled. "Oh, yes, I remember you used to complain about them all the time. They weren't half bad, you know."

"I know," Marni said, sitting down in a worn-out looking chair beside Mag's bed. "I just liked to be irritable."

"Some things never do change."

Marni smiled at her and said, "And some do; what does it feel like to finally be able to see?"

"Really . . . amazing," Mag said and laughed at her own words. "I don't know if I can describe it, you know? Um. Do you remember that book you read to me when we were younger, the one about the boy who can see colors when everyone else just sees -- well, I can't remember what they see, but he's the only one who can see colors --- do you remember that?"

Marni nodded.

"It's sort of like that," Mag told her.

Marni said, "Well, I think it's absolutely wonderful Mag, honestly. I know that may sound kind of flat, but it's true. I almost can't believe it, you know? I would have never thought, it would have been possible, but here we are -- here you are -- and it feels almost surreal. There's so much I'm going to have to get used to."

Mag laughed. "You and me both, Marni."

"So tell me about your new eyes, Mag," Marni said. "How do they work anyway? Rotti never actually explained it all to me, just that you'd be able to do, oh, what was it he said -- memory projection or something like that?"

"I don't really know," Mag admitted. "But I think they put some kind of chip in my head."

Marni laughed. "Well, that's helpful!"

Mag smirked. "Yeah but, I mean, I think it has something to do with my memory impulses or triggers or whatever -- I'm not quite clear on the whole thing exactly. Obviously your brain absorbs everything that you see, do, hear, etc, etc, it's just that you don't remember all of it. But I guess that memories are vivid enough you can call back, and this chip somehow helps you do that. It's wired to my corneas and when I concentrate on the memory, it allows me to project it outwards. Like a movie, sorta, except you're watching a memory."

"Well, that's awesome," Marni said, eyes lighting up. She leaned forward eagerly, propping her elbows on Mag's bed and resting her chin on her palms. "Show me something."

"What?"

"Come on, show me a memory. You must have one."

Mag flushed. "I-I don't know if I can think of a good one just off the top of my head. Besides, I'm not sure if I can get my eyes to work properly just yet . . ." she trailed off as Marni frowned, and she hurriedly went on, ". . . but I'll give it a try, alright? Just this one time though. Then you'll have to wait."

"Yay," Marni said, grinning broadly.

"Just don't laugh at me if I look like an idiot, alright?"

Marni said gently, "Of course I wouldn't."

"Okay, here goes nothing," Mag said, flashing Marni a weak, nervous smile.

 

Her eyes suddenly took on a wide, unfocused expression, as if she were looking at something far off that Marni couldn't see. And then just as suddenly, her pupils whirred and dilated, and a silvery blue projection shot out of them.

"Woah," Marni breathed, impressed.

As the image came into focus, Marni saw the projection of a girl, perhaps about twenty or so, who looked like -- no, it was Mag -- standing at a window, palm up against the glass. Another girl came up behind her -- it took Marni a second to realize it was her -- and silently came up behind projection-Mag and put her arms around her waist, resting her head on her shoulder.

"What is it?" Projection-Marni asked.

Mag lowered her hand, laid it on top of Marni's closed ones. "The glass is cool."

"Yeah," Marni said thoughtfully. "It's raining out."

"I didn't hear it start."

"It's not heavy rain," Marni told her.

Mag smiled, resting her head against Marni's. "Good. Now we can stay inside all day."

"Wouldn't we just have done that anyway?" Marni chuckled.

"Mm, maybe," Mag said, turning in Marni's arms so that the two girls were facing each other. "I just feel better about it when we have an actual excuse."

Marni laughed and Mag kissed her.

For a moment, Marni was lost in the memory Mag was showing her. She remembered the grayness of the sky and the way the rain hit the window and dripped down the glass. She remembered the warmth of Mag's body and the way Mag's mouth had caught her's, capturing her bottom lip. She remembered what came after than, lying on the couch all day with Mag and reading aloud to her from some book she'd just picked up from the library the day before.

The image suddenly flickered and faded away, as Mag moaned softly and closed her eyes. She shook her head, as if trying to clear her head after waking up from a dream. She blinked rapidly for a few times, then turned to Marni.

"Well, how was it?"

"Amazing," Marni said, the image of the projection still fresh in her mind. "That was just amazing, Mag. I . . . I can't even find words to describe it."

Mag blushed a little. "Er, sorry if it wasn't quite the kind of memory you were expecting."

"No, no, it was perfect," Marni told her, reaching forward and taking Mag's hand in her own. She brought it to her mouth, kissing the knuckles. "It was beautiful."

Mag's face turned an even brighter shade of pink and it made Marni smile.

"But, how did you do it?" Marni asked a moment later.

"Do what?"

"We looked like . . . ourselves. And that's a recent -- well, relatively, anyway -- memory. How were you able to show it? What we looked liked, I mean?"

"Well, to be honest, I didn't really think it was going to work," Mag said. "But I think that any visual gaps were just filled in by some recent memories. Like, I can see you know and I can see myself. I know what we look like. So I guess my brain took that memory and combined it was a memory that was missing that visual information. I mean, I already knew everything else about that day -- the sounds, the way the glass felt against my palm, the feeling of you laughing into a kiss -- my brain just turned it into a picture."

"I'd like to see more sometime," Marni said later, as she was leaving to go back to their apartment.

"Maybe," Mag said, suddenly feeling very tired and worn out. "Maybe."

 

The first night Mag went out and saw the stars, she almost couldn't believe it.

Staring up into the dark, expansive night sky, up at the millions of tiny flickering lights, she suddenly had the urge to like down on the grass, despite it still being wet from the afternoon's rain, and just lie there forever, staring up at the stars. It felt very overwhelming, the sense of infiniteness, the sense of being something so small against something so big; Mag felt like she was drowning in it.

"It must feel so weird," Marni commented that night as they were getting ready for bed. "Being able to see and all."

"You can't imagine," Marni said, taking down her hair. "I mean, it's certainly made things a lot easier, don't get me wrong, but I keep getting reminded of how different everything is now. I need to learn to read and write all over again -- you don't really have to expect to do these sort of things when you're twenty-five."

Marni came up behind her, wrapping her arms around Mag's waist. "Don't worry," she said, as they both gazed at their reflections in the mirror. "I'll teach you everything you need to know."

There was something in the tone of Marni's voice, something about the way Mag felt her breath on her neck or the way the light was reflecting off of Marni's hair; Mag turned around and kissed her. Her hands cupped the sides of Marni's face and her lips captured Marni's bottom lip in one swift, fluid motion.

When she pulled away, she couldn't read Marni's face. She said, trying not to sound to hopeful, "Was that alright?"

Marni just smiled and pulled her back in, pressing her hand against the small of Mag's back and the other one tangling in Mag's hair. Mag put her hands on Marni's waist and deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding into Marni's mouth. They had done this before, of course, dozens of times, maybe even possibly hundreds of times, Mag thought, but it all felt completely different now. When they broke apart, gasping, Mag looked into Marni's eyes, saw the brown with little flecks of green, and her head started to spin and suddenly her legs felt quite weak.

They tumbled into Mag's bed, their nightgowns suddenly feeling much to hot and stifling. Marni's mouth went to the bare skin of Mag's stomach, kissing it, pressing her cheek against it. Mag put her hands on Marni's shoulders, ran her hands through Marni's hair, gasped as Marni kissed the inside of her thigh.

Later Mag would marvel at the way Marni's body looked in the pale moonlight, the way her muscles tensed and relaxed with every touch and stroke. Her hands moved over every part of Marni's body, no longer just exploring with fingers and hands that couldn't describe the way Marni looked flushed or the graceful arch of her back.

When they finished, they lay hot and sweaty against each other, Mag's breasts pressed against Marni's back and the sheets and their clothes lying in a discarded heap beside the bed. Mag put her lips against Marni's neck, kissed it softly.

"I love you," she thought she heard Marni murmur, as she was falling off to sleep. She half wanted to ask Marni if that's what she'd actually said, but decided against it, instead preferring to believe it was true, rather than just an drowsy misunderstanding.

"Marni," she whispered in Marni's ear, and stroked her arm with her thumb until they both fell asleep.

In the morning, Mag woke up and found Marni looking at her, elbow propped on her pillow. Mag smiled and suddenly felt very self-conscious.

"What?" she asked, sitting up a bit.

"Nothing," Marni said, giving her a lopsided, half-smile. "You just look so . . . I don't know. You look different. Changed, somehow. Not in a bad way," she said, kissing the top of Mag's head. "Just. I can't even explain it, really. I just woke up this morning and saw you sleeping beside me -- and I couldn't look away."

Mag leaned forward, pressed her lips chastely against Marni's.

They both lay back down on the bed, tangled in the sheets and holding each other. Mag put her hand on Marni's waist and Marni kissed along Mag's collarbone in small, light kisses.

"You know, I can see colors," Mag said, after a few moments of silence. Marni gave her a confused look and she continued, "I mean, I'm not supposed to be able to. When you're born blind, your brain doesn't develop the concept of colors -- it's complicated and I can't really explain it properly, but basically, your brain doesn't know how to process them. So if eventually you do gain some sight, you just see everything in shades of gray. But I can see colors."

Marni smiled.

"You don't know -- you can't understand what it's like," Mag said, kissing her again, "to be able to see the color of your eyes, the way your hair looks in the early morning sunlight. I wish I could explain it to you; it's just this feeling, intangible, that fills me up and makes me feel like I'm going to burst. Everything that I used to be able to just feel I can see now; the world has opened itself up to me and showed itself to me anew, and it is more beautiful than I ever had imagined."

She stopped, breathless, grinning ridiculously. "I know I probably sound ridiculous and am getting way too deep about it, but it's true, and I don't know any other way to explain it."

"I know," Marni said and her hand cupped Mag's face, and Mag wanted to pin her down and kiss her until they were breathless and gasping and there was nothing else but them. And then Marni was kissing her and Mag's arms moved seemingly of their own accord, wrapping themselves around Marni and pulling her on top of her.

They made love beneath the sheets in the sunlight. Mag kissed the underside of Marni's breasts, slid her tongue down along the flat plane of Marni's stomach, kissed the inside of Marni's thigh and tasted her. Marni ran her fingers through Mag's hair, moaned Mag's name as she arched up into Mag's touch. And it was beautiful, Mag thought, to see her like this, flushed and sweaty and panting.

Later they would shower together; Mag giggled as Marni rubbed shampooed her hair, ran soapy fingers up and down her arms, pushed her up against the wall of the shower and kissed her under the warm spray water. In the living room they lay together on the couch in their towels, watching re-runs of old television shows. Mag thought that it was almost surreal, to be lying here beside Marni, like nothing else mattered. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt like this -- if she'd ever felt like this at all, really -- as she put her hand on Marni's, rested her head on Marni's shoulder.

 

\- - -

 

Sometimes Mag imagined a life without Marni. Or tried to, anyway, which always proved to be quite a difficult task. It wasn't as if she wasn't pleased with how things had turned out, it was just that sometimes she wondering what her life may have been like if her father's company hadn't transferred them to Los Angeles, if she hadn't had the same class first period as Marni, if her aunt and uncle hadn't moved back into the city after the brunt of the epidemic had passed. And she thought, things would have been completely different. She may have died along with her parents, she may have stayed with her cousins, she could have gone to Juilliard like Marni always said she could. Everything that had happened in her life, every decision that she made, was because of Marni.

It wasn't that Marni was holding her back. She really didn't want to go to Juilliard.

But sometimes Mag was afraid that she was holding Marni back.

She wasn't stupid; she knew that Marni wished she could have stayed in New England for forever, knew that Marni longed to experience something other than California, a state which no longer seemed as glamorous as it used to. But Mag had been persistent about Marni coming back after she'd gotten her graduate degree at Smith. They'd quarreled about it, a bit, but Marni hated fighting, hated confrontations, so fifteen minutes in she had changed her mind.

"I really think you'd like Boston, though," Marni had said. "It's really nice."

"I didn't like it when I lived in near it when I was younger, so what could possibly make you think that I would like it now?"

"Yeah, that it was probably a lot different back then," Marni said patiently. "And besides, you were just a child then. It's probably a lot different when you can go wherever you want, do whatever you want. And, I mean, I'd be here with you. My work is right near where my apartment is, so we'd have our evenings completely free. And we could go to Providence on weekends or to the beach or where ever. Doesn't that appeal to you?"

"We can do the same things in Los Angeles," Mag said.

"But Boston is different," Marni said, almost whining. "And we don't even have to stay in Boston! I could get a transfer to anywhere. I mean, we could live in New York City -- "

"Why are you so adamant about living somewhere else?"

"Why are you so against it?"

Mag paused. "Because I hate change."

Marni had tried to reason with her more, had tried to make her see that a move would be great for them, that it would give them a fresh start. But Mag didn't falter; she knew Los Angeles, it was her home. Moving somewhere else would mean she'd have to re-learn everything, the streets, the places, the people. She liked being able to know where everything was, she didn't want to rely on Marni for every single thing. And she wished that she could tell Marni that, but if she did, she knew it'd come out wrong, that Marni would take it the wrong way.

"Well, I'll think about it," she offered weakly, but they both knew she wouldn't.

"Well, alright," Marni said simply. "Alright, okay."

Mag sighed. "I'm sorry, Marni, I have to go. It's late here; you know, what with us being in completely different time zones and all."

"Yeah," Marni said vaguely, then added, "good luck with your concert tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"So, I guess I'll just talk to you later then? Will you call?"

Mag said, "Yeah, I will, just as soon as I can. Promise."

"Bye, Mag."

"Goodbye, Marni," Mag said, and she had to bite her lip from adding, I love you.

 

\- - -

 

Like all good things, it didn't last.

A week later Mag was called into Rotti's office and informed, to her despair, that, as she was now in enormous debt to the company because of her surgery, she was now contracted to sing in GeneCo's Genetic Opera, for an indefinite -- which, Mag thought angrily, was a nice way of saying until death -- amount of time. When she told Marni, furious and sad and confused all at once, Marni pursed her lips and said she would talk to Rotti about it.

Rotti, of course, was unwilling to bend on the contract. Marni pleaded with him, to no avail. Marni couldn't even bear to tell Mag the news, that she'd failed, that in helping Mag to see she'd stuck Mag in this horrible position. It was completely her fault, she told herself, and she hated herself for it. When she saw Mag that evening, she almost couldn't bear it; she smiled and lied through her teeth and said Rotti'd been agreeable with it, that it wasn't for forever, that it was only a matter of time before her debt would be repaid.

For a week they slept in their separate beds, Marni still wracked with guilt over Mag's predicament, Mag trying to convince herself that perhaps it wasn't all bad, that maybe Marni was right, maybe things would turn out alright in the end.

(She didn't really think so, but it was nice to pretend they would.)

"I'm sorry," Marni said, again and again.

"It's not your fault," Mag said simply. "I was stupid to trust Rotti."

"No, no," Marni said quickly, putting her arms around Mag. "We both were. I thought maybe, since we were engaged . . . I guess it's just all business to him. I didn't think he would . . . I'll try to talk to him again, promise, he has to give on this. It's just . . . wrong."

"You don't understand anything, Marni," Rotti told her, when she was in his office the next day. "I can't just make an exception for Mag, regardless of who she is. I make an exception with her and then people will start coming from all over asking for the same thing. And it'll look bad. Publicity wise, I mean. They'll say I'm only doing it as a favor for you."

"So what?" Marni asked angrily, putting her hands on her hips. "Why do you care? With all the lies and rumors that are being published about your company, all the time, this will be the thing to tarnish your reputation?"

"Let's not discuss it any further," Rotti said dismissively, standing up and coming around his desk.

"I'm not just going to brush this off," Marni said, still furious with him

"Yes, you are," Rotti said, a bit too forcefully. "Because the contract is final. And there isn't anything you can do to change it. So just let it be."

He tried to kiss her, but Marni turned her head away.

 

On the eve of Mag's first concert for GeneCo, she was a mess.

"You've performed probably a hundred times before, why are you nervous now?" Marni asked, standing beside Mag's vanity table in a sky blue silk dress that Rotti had bought her especially for tonight. It had an awfully long slit up the side and Marni thought it was a bit un-tasteful, personally, though she'd agreed to wear it, eager to make the night go by without a hitch.

"You don't understand," Mag said, checking her makeup in the mirror for the umpteenth time that night. "I'm not just singing -- if it were just singing I would be fine -- I'm doing this for my eyes. I've seen the fine print on the contract I signed, Marni, and it is not something I would like to experience first hand."

"It's not like they'd fire you or anything," Marni said, suddenly taking a great deal of interest in the pattern on the carpet in Mag's dressing room. "I mean, you're the best there is. Just pretend like it's not such a big deal. I mean, pretend like you're not doing this because you have to. And I'll be there for you, in the audience, cheering you on."

Mag thought then that she would like to pretend as if she was singing just to Marni, that she would look into the spotlights and imagine that it was just her and Marni in their apartment back in college; the idea of doing such a thing was comforting to her. Yes, she resolved, as she tucked a small strand of hair behind her eyes, that is what she would do. Singing for Marni instead o GeneCo; yes, she could do that.

"Well, I have to go find my seat," Marni said with a sigh, "Rotti is probably dying to show me off to some friends of his or make me pose for some lame publicity photos before the show."

She put her hand on Mag's shoulder, met Mag's eyes in the reflection in the mirror.

Mag thought she would have liked to kiss her, just once for luck.

It would ruin her lipstick, though.

"You'll do fine," Marni whispered and gave Mag's shoulder a comforting squeeze before turning around and heading out the door.

As predicted, Rotti was waiting for her in the main entrance. He gave Marni as look as he hurried over and Marni rolled her eyes at his impatience. As she came to stand next to him, Rotti smiled and put his arm around her, kissing her on the cheek. He then turned to introduce her to some men he'd been speaking to before she arrived; she smiled and nodded and pretended to be interesting, but the entire time she was stifling a yawn.

Then, just as the men were leaving and Marni thought she'd actually be able to sit down now and get away from all these tiring social politics, a young man strode up to them, smiling brightly. He had chestnut colored hair, swept to the side, and sharp brown eyes. He was about Rotti's height, Marni surmised, though he possessed a more slender frame. He was dressed in a charcoal colored suit with a cream colored tie.

"Mr. Largo," the man said.

"How are you this evening, Nathan?" He asked, returning the smile.

Nathan put his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and said, "Fine. Wonderful, actually. I'm extremely excited to see this new singer of yours Rotti -- they say she's world famous."

"She is," Marni chimed in, and Nathan looked over at her as if seeing her for the first time.

"Oh, hello," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Nathan Wallace, I work for Rotti."

"How do you do," Marni said, shaking his hand. "I'm Marni Thompson, Rotti's fiance."

Nathan's eyes widened and he quickly turned his gaze over to Rotti. "So this is your fiance?" He asked, surprised. He turned back to Marni. "Forgive me, Ms. Thompson. It just occurred to me that while I have already heard so much about you, I have not yet had the opportunity to meet you.

"So," he went on, "I take it you're a fan of, um, this singer?"

"Mag," Marni said.

"Blind Mag," Rotti corrected her.

"Yes, Blind Mag," Marni said, amending herself. "I forget that's her new stage name. Anyway, yes, I am a fan of hers; we've been close friends for a while now, actually."

Nathan looked impressed.

Rotti said, "Nathan, won't you sit with us tonight for the opera?" and Nathan nodded and grinned and Marni led the way as they all progressed from the main entrance to the theatre, their seats the five row from the stage. Marni sat beside Rotti, who sat beside Nathan, smiled politely as Nathan and Rotti engaged in small talk to the side of her. She studied the opera program booklet, at the picture of Mag on the cover in heavy eye shadow, hair piled up on her head in intricate braids, head cocked to the side as she gazed out at something in the distance. Oracle a Delfi was splashed in thick, bold lettering underneath the picture of Mag.

"What is this about?" Marni asked, turning to Rotti.

"Themis," Rotti told her. "The Greek goddess of divine justice, known for her incredible talent of prophecy."

Nathan leaned across the seats. "Are you a fan of operas, Marni?"

"Only when Mag sings them," Marni admitted with the laugh, resting her hand on Rotti's.

"This is my first," Nathan told them both.

Marni said, "You won't be disappointed. Hearing Mag's voice . . . her voice is, well, it's something else. In almost certainty I can say that you've never heard anything as lovely before."

Nathan flashed her another brilliant smile. "Well, if she's as good as you say she is, I may just become a regular patron of GeneCo's operas."

Watching Mag sing, Marni thought, was surreal.

Marni always thought that Mag was destined for the stage. It was true; on stage she seemed to shine, strong and confident and powerful. Mag had absolutely no inhibitions on stage -- she let it all go. And now with her new eyes, well, Marni had to admit, she looked even more radiant. She wasn't just standing up in front of an orchestra and singing, she was actually performing. Her movements looked so smooth and natural that if Marni hadn't known any better, Mag had been doing this her entire life.

Halfway through one of the songs, Mag looked out into the audience and their gazes locked. Mag forced herself to look away, to divert her eyes, but in the end, it always came back to Marni. She could see Marni sitting up front, beside Rotti, wearing that lopsided smile of hers, and that was all she needed. The rest of the audience didn't matter, just Marni.

Marni brought her hand to her mouth and bit her knuckle, a pretty, practiced gesture; it made Mag almost miss her cue. And when she sang her final song of the night, she kept her gaze level with Marni's for the better part of it, knowing she should look away, but yet not being able to. And then at the end she broke the stare between them, pictured ancient Rome, Mount Olympus, all the gods and goddesses -- a thousand images in her mind came to life then as her pupils whirred and dilated and the images became film.

"Amazing," Marni heard Nathan said to Rotti in a loud voice as they stood clapping with the rest of the audience. "Simply amazing."

Afterwards, the three of them stood together in the lobby, while the rest of the audience members milled about them. Marni caught snatches of conversations as groups passed them: incredible . . . I would have never thought . . . a huge asset for GeneCo . . . I wonder if she gives out autographs? . . .

"I can only stay for a few minutes or so," Marni told Rotti, sweeping a few loose strands of hair out of her eyes. "Mag's probably exhausted and it's late anyway and I'm the one driving, so."

"Mag could always take a taxi," Rotti said, a bit gruffly. "You needn't feel as if you have to be her caretaker."

"It's alright, I like to do it," Marni said pleasantly. She kissed her lightly and said, "I'll call you tomorrow, alright?"

Rotti nodded stiffly. Marni turned to Nathan.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, uh, Mr. Wallace," she said cordially. "Perhaps we'll run into each other again sometime."

"I do hope so," Nathan said, earnestly shaking her hand again. "Please do tell your friend that I found her performance to be exceptional -- unlike anything I've ever seen before. I believe she may have turned me into an opera fan."

Marni laughed. "Don't worry, I'll tell her. I'm sure she'll be delighted to hear that, thank you."

She turned and kissed Rotti's cheek once more before waving goodbye and heading off into the direction of Mag's dressing room.

 

\- - -

 

"Want to meet for lunch today?" Mag asked that morning as they were both getting ready for work.

"Sorry, I can't," Marni said, ducking back into the closet to grab a different pair of shoes. "I already promised Rotti that I'd go out with him for lunch."

"Well, then, some other time," Mag said, not unhappily. "It's just nice to be able to get away from work for an hour or so. Ugh, you have no idea how awful these rehearsals are. And we have to do these stupid promotional videos too; I hate it. And Rotti's children are . . . well, not the best."

"Oh, I think Amber's kind of sweet," Marni said, looking herself over in the mirror over their dresser.

"You met her once," Mag said, hands on her hips. "And that was, oh, last year? You can't talk."

"Fine, fine," Marni said, putting on lipstick. "I don't really know his children all that well."

"I'm not going to say anything, but -- "

Marni set down her lipstick with a firm click. "Then don't. Start. Because I don't really feel like discussing this right now."

Mag, instead of biting her tongue like she told herself to, said, "Well, when would be a good time to discuss it? After you're married?"

"Let's not ruin the morning," Marni said, striding across the room and kissing her lightly on the lips.

Mag sighed. "Fine. Have a nice day," she said, following Marni to the door.

Marni smiled and said, "You too," and kissed her again, quickly.

Later that day, however, it appeared that Rotti was not going to make their lunch date. Marni waited for half an hour outside of his office before digging her cell phone out of her bag and calling him. He apologized, told her that a meeting had come up, that he wouldn't be able to make it today. Marni sighed and told him she'd call him later and that it was alright, really, she'd just grab something to eat on her way back to work.

On her way out, she saw Nathan.

"Oh, fancy running into you here," Marni teased, as Nathan stood in the lobby waiting for the elevator.

"Uh, well, yes," Nathan said rather nervously, suddenly finding the files in his hand painfully interesting. "Uh, I'm guessing you're here to see Rotti."

"Was," Marni said. "I guess he's in meetings all day or something. I mean, I thought he said we were going to get lunch together today, but I must have gotten the dates mixed up or something."

Nathan gave her a thin smile.

"Well," she said, as the elevator doors slid open. "I guess I'll just see you around then. Bye," she said, with a wave of her fingers.

"W-wait," Nathan said, stepping towards her, and she turned around to face him. "I-I um. I haven't eaten lunch yet, and um, I'm guessing you haven't either and I was wondering if, uh, maybe you'd. Well, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to get lunch with me . . . ?"

Marni raised her eyebrows.

"It-it doesn't have to be here, though," Nathan rushed on. "We could go out or something. It's just, uh, you know. I know you're Rotti's fiance, and it's a shame he couldn't keep his lunch date with you. And, uh. And I think that maybe this way you wouldn't have to eat alone. I mean, that is, unless you want to eat alone, and in that case, I'll just go."

Marni hesitated, then said, "You know, actually, I think I'll take you up on that offer. I'm sure Rotti wouldn't mind anyway, since apparently he'll be indisposed for the rest of the day. Besides," she said, as they made their way down the hall to the main lobby of the company. "We haven't talked at all since I saw you at the Genetic Opera! You must tell me all about yourself."

When they were seated at their tables, at a little cafe a few blocks down from GeneCo's main offices, Marni asked, with a grin, "So, did Marni really turn you into an opera enthusiast?"

Nathan said, "Well, to be quite honest, not really. I don't think I'm quite sophisticated enough to ever fully enjoy opera. But, oh, I must say, if I like listening to anything opera, it's the songs that your -- is it roommate, friend?"

"-- Both," Marni interjected helpfully.

"Sorry. Your friend is a marvelous singer," Nathan told her, smiling brightly. "I picked up a few of her CDs after listening to her. I've never heard anything even come close to it."

"Well, Mag is a bit of a star," Marni said. "I mean, if you asked her, she'd say the opposite; she doesn't seem to think that her music is anything spectacular -- she's incredibly modest like that, and sincerely so, I mean; she's not just being modest for the sake of it. But yeah, she's absolutely brilliant. It makes me jealous, sometimes," she admitted.

"Oh, well, I'm sure you're good at plenty of things," Nathan told her. "Nathan's very picky about the kind of people he associates with, so I'm sure you're brilliant in your own right. Uh," he hesitated, "what is it that you do?"

"I'm an editor," Marni said. "An editor for the publishing company Price & Price -- have you heard of them? -- well, anyway, I put into the position of executive editor, so I'm crossing my fingers and hoping that I get it. I know my job's not amazing or anything, and actually, it's probably as boring as you expect, but I'm fairly good at it and it's a way to earn a living."

Nathan said, "Well, I think the most important question is if you like what you're doing."

Marni paused. "Well, I think I do. I don't dislike it, if that's what you mean. But it's not as if I look forward to it every day. Then again, who does?"

"I think work should inspire you, is all," Nathan said slowly. "That's why I like being a doctor. I mean, I'm only in research, so it's not as if I'm out in hospitals every day seeing patients, but in a way I'm helping other people. And I find that inspiring and it's what pushes me to be better, to work harder."

Marni chuckled. "No wonder Rotti likes you," she said, "you have a terrific work ethic."

Nathan beamed at her and then, faltering said, "Well, I'm not all that great."

"No, you are," Marni said thoughtfully, sitting back.

Nathan flushed and looked rather nervous, which made Marni smile inwardly. "I-I really should be getting back, I think. I mean, I think, um, I have stuff to do . . . "

Marni reached across the table, caught his hand in hers. "No, wait," she said quietly. "Stay."

Nathan hesitated and Marni could see him debating whether or not he should stay or go. After a moment he said, a bit unhappily, "No, I really think I should be going. Please tell Rotti I said hello."

Marni pulled her hand back, watched as Nathan turned and hurried away, blue-gray jacket tucked under his arm.

 

"We keep running into each other," Marni said cheerfully, as she saw Nathan in the hallway as she was leaving Rotti's office

"Well, I do work here," Nathan said, a bit flustered.

Marni said, "Are you ever not working?"

Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down. "No. I mean, yes, I mean, I'm not always working. You just always manage to catch me when I am." He looked up and gave her a nervous smile. "But, uh, how are you? It's been, what, a week since we last saw each other?"

"Yeah, I think so," Marni said.

"Well, uh, I hope you're doing well," Nathan said, pushing his glasses up with his index finger.

Marni said, "Are you going to the elevators? I'll walk with you."

"Actually, I wasn't -- I was. I was. Thanks."

Marni smiled at him and they made their way down the hall to the elevators in silence.

"So, uh," Nathan said, while they were waiting. "Sorry I ran off the other day."

Marni said, "Oh, it's all right. I shouldn't have pulled you away from your work."

"It -- it wasn't like that," Nathan said awkwardly, mumbling a bit. "I uh. Never mind."

Marni flashed him another smile as the doors to the elevator opened with a bright ding.

In the elevator, it was just the two of them; Nathan looked rather anxious and Marni found it almost cute. She had half a mind to reach over and touch his hand, not saying anything, just letting it rest there. She wondered what would happen if she did that. And, being unable to decide what would happen, she decided to just go ahead and do it.

Nathan glanced over at her, and then down at their hands, fingers almost intertwined.

Nathan's hand was smooth and warm and very much unlike Rotti's. And then suddenly Marni was aware of the closeness of their bodies, about how she could have easily just leaned over and rested her head on Nathan's shoulder if she wanted; it was more a comforting realization than a shocking one. She could hear Nathan's breathing and wondered if, she listened hard enough, she would be able to hear the beat of his heart, after all, she was sure he could hear hers; she felt as if she may burst.

And then the doors opened and Nathan stepped away, with a hurried goodbye.

Marni slowly exited the elevator, Nathan's touch still lingering on her hand. She looked down the hall to try and see if she could still see Nathan, but he was gone.

 

"This might seem strange and unexpected, being that I'm engaged and all, but I want to let you know that I've met someone," Marni announced the next morning, while she and Mag were eating breakfast at the kitchen table.

"Oh?" Mag said, flipping idly through the paper and sipping her coffee. "And I'm assuming Rotti doesn't know about this?"

"Well," Marni hesitated, "I suppose he sort of . . . does? I mean, Rotti's the one who introduced us -- it was back at your first concert for GeneCo -- only, he just doesn't know that we may have hit it off better than he expected. He's cute and smart and awkward in an adorable sort of way -- "

"Well, this doesn't sound a story that is going to go anywhere good," Mag said, downing the rest of her coffee and setting it down on the table with a sigh.

Marni colored. "Nothing happened," she said defensively. "I mean, we've just talked. And he invited me out to lunch, once, but that was only because Rotti canceled on me, and -- "

"So of course the natural thing to do would be to go out with someone else, especially a friend of Rotti's. Yeah, I can totally see how you would come to that conclusion. Perfectly normal."

"He's not Rotti's friend, he's just an employee. More of like an acquaintance, really."

Mag rolled her eyes.

"I don't like it when you get all judgemental," Marni frowned. "It doesn't suit you, Mag."

Mag stood up, tossing the paper aside and bringing her dishes over to the sink. "I'm not being judgemental, I just know you."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're impulsive," Mag said, rinsing out her cup. "You don't get to know people before you decide whether you like them or not. You just dive into things headfirst. I'm sure this guy was nice an sweet and cute or whatever, and but you've decided all of this after spending -- what, an hour? two hours? -- with him. Also, in case you've forgotten, he is not the man you're engaged to."

Marni folded her arms. "I thought you didn't approve of Rotti."

Mag kept her back to Marni, turning off the water and setting her cup upside-down on the towel beside the sink. She put her hands on the edge of the counter and gazed out the window above the sink. "I didn't -- I don't. But at the same time, I approve of the idea of you falling for another man who you just met yesterday."

"I'm not falling for him, Mag. And we've talked before yesterday. He was at the Genetic Opera; that's where Rotti introduced him to me. Don't make it sound as if he's just some total stranger."

Mag rolled her eyes again, turning around to face Marni. "Right, of course. He's just this nice guy who you didn't just meet yesterday and just want to be friends with. And that's why you found it so important to tell me about him."

Marni was silent.

"I just don't want you to rush ahead like you always do," Mag said in a gentler tone.

"And I would like it if you'd stop being jealous and quick to judge," Marni said in an angry tone. "Just because you can't stand change and don't like that fact that I might actually like someone other than you, there's no need for you to act all superior."

Mag bit her lip and looked away.

"Look," Marni said, standing, immediately regretting what she'd just said. "Let's not fight."

Mag didn't say anything.

"Mag," Marni said in a quiet voice, trying to make amends. "Maggie, come here."

She made a motion to put her arms around the taller woman, but Mag just pulled away and wouldn't speak to Marni for the rest of the day.

 

That December Mag and Marni received an invitation to GeneCo's annual Christmas party.

"I don't see why we even need to RSVP," Mag said, as she filled out the return slip at the kitchen table. "Rotti know already that we're both going to have to go."

 

"Aw, don't you want to go?" Marni said from the sink, washing the dishes.

 

"No," Mag said sullenly.

 

Marni said, "But it'll be fun. I mean, it's this huge party that we've always heard about but never have been able to go to before. And now we get to go."

"Which would be fun if we weren't made to go," Mag said, stuffing the RSVP slip into the return envelope, licking along the edge and sealing it. "Besides, it's not like we're going to do anything. We're just going to stand around and pretend to care when Rotti introduces us to people. We're just there for him to show us off."

"That's not true," Marni said, though she doubted her own words as she was saying them. "I'm sure we'll have a wonderful time. And I'm sure we'll get to meet some really nice people."

"Oh yes," Mag said, irritated. "I'm sure."

A week and a half later they were sitting down at a table off to the side while Rotti was off talking to the president or CEO of some company (Marni couldn't keep track of them all, and she didn't really care all that much either). Mag, looking bored and irritated, sat stirring her nearly empty glass of ice water.

"I told you this was going to freaking suck," she said, a bit louder than was necessary.

"Language, Mag, please," Marni said, though she didn't really care. "Come on," she said after a moment, "let's go up to the bar and get something to drink."

"Fine," Mag sighed, standing up and following her over.

At the bar, waiting for their drinks, Marni scanned the crowd looking hopefully for any familiar faces

"Look, there's Nathan," Marni said, touching Mag's elbow.

"Oh, fantastic," Mag said, not even trying to suppress her annoyance, taking a large swallow of her martini.

"Oh, hello," Marni said, surprised, as he spotted them through the crowd and made his way over to where they were standing. "I didn't expect you to be here."

"Oh, yes, ah, well, it is GeneCo's annual Christmas Party," Nathan said smiling brightly at both of them. "Pretty much all the employees come to this. It's a lot of fun."

"It's almost too much for me to handle," Mag muttered under her breath.

"What?" Marni looked over at her.

Mag started. "Nothing," she said. "Just, nothing."

"Oh, right!" Marni exclaimed suddenly. She looked back and forth quickly between Mag and Nathan and said, "You two haven't met yet, have you? Mag, this is Nathan Wallace. Nathan, this is Magdalene DeFoe -- or as I call her, Mag."

"Charmed," Mag said dryly, shaking Nathan's hand stiffly. "Marni's told me a lot about you."

"Oh really," Nathan said, looking surprised but pleased.

"And you obviously know who Mag is," Marni said, jumping in quickly.

"Yes, of course," Nathan said pleasantly. "I saw you at the Genetic Opera last month."

"You turned Nathan into a fan," Marni told Mag with a smile.

Nathan nodded emphatically. "You sing beautifully," he said.

"Thank you," Mag said quietly, looking down.

"Mag's rather shy," Marni explained.

Mag wanted to say that she wasn't shy, that she just didn't want to be at this stupid party where she felt ridiculously out of place. She wanted to say that she really didn't want to be talking to Nathan right now -- or anyone, really, for that matter. It was bad enough that she was forcibly employed to GeneCo without having to go to every single ridiculous party or fund-raiser they had. She wanted to say a lot of things, but she knew it wouldn't do any good, so instead she just stood there quietly, studying the floor.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Nathan was saying, "I suffer from some social anxiety myself from time to time. It's dreadful, really." He laughed nervously, as if to prove his point.

"Ah, I meant to ask you," he went on, turning to Mag. "How did you do that eye trick? You remember, the one you did at your last performance?"

"Oh, that," Mag said, looking up and meeting his eyes. "It's kind of complicated, actually, to explain; it's not easy to learn how to do it -- I mean, it took me probably a good month or so before I figured out how to work them properly -- but once you do know, it's easy. It just requires a great deal of concentration, is all. I'm a lot better than I was before, mind you, but I still have a long ways to go before I'm an expert."

"Well, it certainly looked brilliant to me. It adds a bit of unexpected flair to the performance.

"Yes, well, it was Rotti's idea."

Nathan nodded. "That does seem like something he would come up with."

"Mag's a bit of an opera snob anyway," Marni teased gently. "She prefers the classic operas; she doesn't much care for the new ones that are being written solely for the Genetic Opera."

Mag said defensively, "Well, as I've said before, I think it's great that operas have become so popular again. Honestly, I really am pleased about it. I just think that people aren't bothering to look at the classics and that's exactly how culture starts to fade. It's fine to do new operas, but I think there should be a mix, you know? Some old, some new."

"Mag's pretty passionate about this," Marni said with a grin. "As you can probably tell."

"No, I think she makes a good point," Nathan said. "I mean, I agree with her."

"Really," Marni said, raising an eyebrow. "See, Mag," she said, turning to the other woman, "you've completely influenced him. Now he'll never form his own opinions."

Mag grinned, starting to warm up at least a little bit to Nathan. "I doubt that. But he is right to agree."

Marni flashed her a smile, reaching down between them and finding Mag's hand, squeezing it gently.

"Oh, I think now's when I have to go backstage," Mag said, an hour later.

"Hmm?" Marni asked, sipping her martini.

"Rotti wants to show me off," Mag told her, annoyed. "He wants me to do a song for the guests."

"Oh, you didn't say anything about this to me, Mag."

Mag shrugged."Rotti told me to keep it a secret, so I did. Really," she said, forcing a smile and putting her hand on Marni's arm. "It's nothing. It's just some stupid Christmas song. I have to do it whether I like it or not, so I may as well get it over with now. Anyway, I'll see you later, yeah? And I hope you like the song."

Marni gave her a warm smile. "You know I will."

Nathan, who had wandered off to go talk to a few of his colleagues, wandered back over to the table where Marni was sitting at a few minutes after Mag had left. He looked around curiously and then drew up a chair, sliding himself down into it beside Marni.

"Mag had to go backstage," Marni told him, jerking her head in the direction of the side door. "She said she's going to be singing some song."

"Oh, it wasn't on the program," Nathan said, pushing his glasses up with his index finger. "Not that I, uh, can recall anyway."

"I think it's supposed to be a surprise," Marni said.

"Ah, well, I know I'm probably always saying this," Nathan said, "but that does sound like something Rotti would do."

Marni nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, you're right."

"You know," Nathan started slowly, after a minute. "Rotti's very lucky to be marrying a girl like you." He paused. "I just thought you should know."

Their hands met under the table, fingers searching and intertwining with each other, as Rotti came on stage and cleared his throat into the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, smiling widely. "GeneCo's very own opera star, Blind Mag, would like to perform a song for you this evening, one, that I would like to add, is one of her own composition. So," he said, stepping aside, as Mag entered from the wings. "Without further ado, Blind Mag."

Marni and Nathan's hands fell apart as the party guests broke out into applause, Marni clapping so hard her palms stung. She caught Nathan looking over at her out the corner of her eye, and she smiled at him, dropping her hand down to his again.

"Well, as Mr. Largo informed you, this is an original song," Marni said, trying to find Marni in the crowd of people. "It's a song that I've been working on for a number of years now, and it was written for someone very close to my heart. So, um, I hope you like it."

The first few piano notes started, trickling in slowly, patiently, and gradually it grew louder, swelling. Mag rested her hands gently on the microphone, cupping it delicately. She started to sing, quietly, eyes closed.

The lake is frozen over  
The trees are white with snow  
And all around, reminders of you  
Are everywhere I go

Nathan's eyes met Marni's, and she saw something in his that made her melt. There was such a tenderness in them, a sweetness that she'd never seen in Rotti's eyes, and she couldn't help herself. And then she was standing and whispering, "Come here," and tugging quietly him into the lobby.

She kissed him beneath the arc of the door, pressing him up against the oak paneling. Startled, he froze; a moment later he was kissing her back and she was falling into him, wrapping her arms around him, and she could hear Mag still singing in the background.

And this is how I see you:  
In the snow on Christmas morning  
Love and happiness surround you  
As you throw your arms up to the sky  
I keep this moment by and by

 

\- - -

 

"So," Marni said, as casually as if they were discussing the weather. "I wanted you to be the first to know: Rotti and I are going to be married."

Mag choked on her coffee. "What?"

Marni flushed a bit and said hurriedly, "Don't say anything, alright? Just listen. So on yesterday, Sunday, Rotti and I were walking in the park, and I was talking about the children playing on the swings and how happy they looked and how I totally want to have children of my own someday. And he seemed sort of distracted, yeah? So I asked him what he was thinking and at first he said it was nothing, but then he told me that perhaps that I should sit down on the bench. So naturally, I did, in part because, you know, I was worried, that maybe something was wrong.

Anyway, I sat down and he got down on one knee, and I remember thinking to myself, oh my God, oh my God, because I knew what he was going to say and then he was asking me to marry him, and I said . . . well, I said yes."

Mag stared at her.

"Say something," Marni said, after a few moment of silence.

Mag said, "I'm not really sure what to say right now."

"You could say congratulations."

Mag sighed, eyes darting away quickly then back to Marni. "Congratulations, Marni," she said quietly, pushing herself up and away from the table, waking away silently.

Marni frowned and followed her into the bedroom.

"What is your problem?" She asked, crossing her arms, glaring at Mag, who was sitting by the window in a high backed chair.

"Nothing," Mag said, not even sounding remotely convincing.

Marni scoffed. "Sure, nothing. Now why don't you tell me what you really think?"

"Honestly?" Mag said, turning to face her. "I think you're an idiot."

"For marrying Rotti?"

"What else? Unless maybe you've done something else equally stupid that I just don't know about yet."

Marni, angry now, said, "You know, I know it may be a difficult concept for you to understand, but we're friends. You are my friend. Ergo, you should be congratulating me for this, instead of just sitting there and acting as if I've gone and done this terrible."

"Well, I'm doing it because you have," Marni said, louder now, her eyes flashing. "Because marrying Rotti? What exactly were you on when you thought that was a good idea? What ever gave you the slightest impression that he was the person you wanted to spend your life with? He's arrogant and condescending and he and his children are by far the worst people I have ever known. And you don't love him. You told me so yourself. Why are you doing this?"

"You're just jealous," Marni said, "because you --"

"Let it go, Marni!" Mag shouted. "Okay, great, I'm in love with you! Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now? I'm in love with you and so of course I need you to be miserable and not get married because that is the only way I can feel good about myself! There, that's what you wanted to hear, right? That I'm just being completely unreasonable about all of this? Did it make you feel better?"

"Of course not," Marni said. "Because you're still being an idiot."

"You're not the one who has to spend their whole lives working for a man who screwed you over."

"That -- that is not my fault."

"I never said it was," Mag said, standing. "I have to be stuck with Rotti and GeneCo for the rest of my life. But you get a choice, Marni. Why would you chose to be with him? Is this really what you want to do?"

"I can't even believe we're having this conversation," Marni said, angry and exasperated, throwing her hands up into the air. "You're being an idiot."

"I just care about you --"

"That's just the problem! You care too much! Let me do what I want to do for once instead of always holding me back!"

She regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. Mag just glared at her silently, her eyes bright and shining with tears.

"Fine," Mag said quietly. "Fine."

She walked out of the room without another word; Marni chased after her, catching her by the arm.

"Mag, wait!"

"Leave me alone, Marni!" Mag said, shoving her away. She grabbed her coat off of the arm of the couch and tugged it on angrily. "You want to go marry Rotti? Fine. Do whatever you want. I don't care. And now I'm going out. I have a rehearsal."

Marni watched her go helplessly, letting her arms fall to her sides.

This was stupid. Mag was stupid. She was stupid. They shouldn't have been arguing about this and she shouldn't have gotten so angry with Mag. It was only natural that Mag would be angry with GeneCo and Rotti for what had happened. She should have just let it go, she should have been more understanding. Of course Mag must think Marni didn't care about her at all, that this was some sort of betrayal. But then that thought made her angrier, because it wasn't anything like that, it had nothing to do with her choosing Rotti over Mag or anything like that.

And she hated herself for feeling guilty about arguing and hated herself for not being understanding and for the argument. They barely had ever quarreled before in the whole time they'd known each other; Marni hated conflict. And she didn't want Mag to be angry with her, even though Mag would probably be furious with her for a good time now. She sighed and sat down on the couch, pressing her fingers against her temple, already feeling a massive headache coming on.

She would wait for Mag to come home. And then she would make things right.

 

"I'm never going to leave you," Marni said, climbing into bed beside Mag and pressing feather-light kisses on Mag's shoulder, trying to coax her into a better mood.

"You shouldn't be doing that," Mag said coldly, her back still to Marni. "After all, you're engaged now."

Marni sighed and put her arm round Mag, her fingers seeking out Mag's hand.

"Are you going to stay mad at me forever?"

"Probably."

"Mag, please," Marni murmured, nuzzling against her. "I'm sorry."

Mag didn't say anything for a good while, just lay their stiffly. Marni sighed and thought that perhaps she would just have to wait for Mag's mood to improve and was almost considering just going back to her own bed when suddenly Mag said, almost too quietly for Marni to hear, "What's going to happen to us?"

"What?" Marni asked.

Mag turned, shifting so that they lay face to face. "What's going to happen to us when you get married? Everything's going to change, isn't it."

"No," Marni said, shaking her head forcefully. "No, nothing's going to change."

"It's already started to, though," Mag said, eyes closed. "Look at us. You're going in one direction and I'm going in the completely opposite one. And we've never argued like that before. "

Marni reached forward, brushed a few loose strands of hair out of Mag's eyes, kissed her forehead.

"I just want . . . you," she said, and Mag opened her eyes, looked straight at her, as if she could see right through Marni, right on through to her soul.

"No, you don't," she murmured. "Or maybe you do. We just don't want each other in the same way."

"I want you in every way there is," Marni breathed and kissed her full on the mouth.

"Show me," Mag said, and Marni kissed her again and pressed Mag down onto the bed.

Later, Mag said, "Tell me that you're happy. I want to hear you say it."

"I'm happy," Marni said.

Mag gave her a small, sweet smile. "I don't believe you. But it's nice to hear you say it."

Marni sighed as Mag traced patterns on her stomach, skin hot and slick with sweat.

"I'm always happy when I'm with you," she told Mag in a quiet voice.

"But you don't love me," Mag said unhappily.

The moonlight was reflecting off of Mag's eyes, turning them a milky, sky-blue color. Her hair, long and dark and wavy, fell about her shoulders messily, framing her face flushed with desire and exhaustion. Her skin felt very soft under Marni's hands, and she suddenly seemed like china, so fragile and easily broken. Marni thought just then she could not recall a time when Mag had ever seemed so lovely to her.

"I do," Marni said, cupping her face in her hands. "I just don't know how to do it properly."

 

"When are you planning on having the wedding?" Mag asked, after they'd both glossed over the whole blow-up between them from a week earlier.

"I'm thinking maybe sometime in fall," Marni said thoughtfully, spooning sugar into her cup of coffee. "It'd be next fall, mind you. But I've always thought that a fall wedding would just be lovely. Of course not as lovely as if it would be in New England -- I've always loathed the fact that California is summer all year round. Then again," she took a sip of coffee. "I might convince Rotti that it would be so worth it to fly us and a small group of guests out there for the weekend. Hmm."

"New England is rather lovely in the fall," Mag said, even though she only knew about it from books and postcards. "Would you be getting married in a church?"

"God, I hope not." Marni groaned. "I'd love an outdoor wedding. But I'm sure Rotti would like us to be married by a priest. He's religious," she said.

Mag snorted.

Marni grinned. "Okay, well, he's probably not the most ethical person ever, so that is kind of ironic. But his family was religious, so you know how it is."

Mag nodded idly, glancing over the front page of the newspaper spread out on the kitchen table. "You know," she said, after a bit, "I have a show next week. Uh, it's nothing special -- not like the Genetic Opera or anything, but it's sort of like a private concert for Rotti and a bunch of other company CEOs and stuff like that, you know how it is. I don't know if he's invited you or not, but I'd like for you to come. That is, I mean, if you want to -- I know you're probably swamped with work."

"Oh, I'd love to come," Marni said. "I feel like I haven't been to a proper concert in yours in forever, Mag. And I miss hearing you sing. You don't do it as often when you're around the house as you used to."

"Well, I have to keep my voice rested," Mag told her. "You know, the constant all-day rehearsals and stuff like that really put a strain on my voice."

"Why do you need to rehearse so much?"

"Well, it's not always just rehearsing for shows. Sometimes it's rehearsing for promotional things -- which are a great deal more involved than I expected, believe me -- and sometimes I have to places during the day to meet with people. Um, they want me to make a CD, you see, so I've been busy working out contracts and all that."

"Oh!" Marni exclaimed, setting down her cup and beaming at Mag. "You never told me you were making a CD."

Mag flushed. "Well, it's not all sorted out yet, so I didn't want to tell you until I knew for sure."

Marni said, "Either way, I'm happy for you.I mean, that's a big deal for you." Her smile widened. "Soon you'll be the most popular, talked about star in the United States -- maybe even the world."

Mag laughed. "Getting a little ahead of ourselves, don't you think? Anyway, I know you just want me to be famous so you can brag to all your co-workers about it."

"I'm scandalized," Marni said, feigning indignation. "To think you would even suggest of me trying to use you to make myself look cooler. It's simply absurd."

Mag laughed again. "Don't worry," she said, grinning. "If I ever do become that famous, I'll make sure to let everyone know it was all because of you."

 

"We won't be able to do this once you're married," Mag told her, as Marni collapsed on top of her, hot and sweaty and gasping for breath.

"You always know what to say to turn me on," Marni joked, still out of breath, as she kissed Mag's neck.. "And anyway, why not?"

Mag rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms loosely around her lover. "Because you'll be married. I'm pretty sure that there are rules against these kinds of things. You know, like, fidelity and all of that stuff? I mean, we're already doing something we're not supposed to be doing, only, it'll be about a thousand times worse if we do it when you're married." She paused, thinking. "Especially if Rotti ever found out. Seriously, that thought alone is terrifying. I would have more to worry about than just my eyes if that ever happened."

Marni giggled and kissed her.

"And how would he ever find out?" She asked playfully, rolling off of Mag and taking the sheets with her.

Mag grinned and rolled her eyes again. "Not in the way I'm sure you're thinking of," she said. "But, really. Seriously, Marni, we really shouldn't be doing this."

Marni turned her head away and yawned into her pillow. Turing back to Mag she said, "I've never liked being denied to whatever I like to do. And whenever someone's told me that I was allowed to do something, I always just went ahead and did it anyway."

"Oh?" Mag arched her back, stretching. "I suppose the rules just don't apply to you then."

Marni shook her head, grinning ridiculously. "Nope."

Mag drew her in, kissed her softly. She felt Marni's tongue slide along her bottom lip, almost hesitantly, and she chuckled into the kiss, pulling her in closer. She felt Marni's hand resting lightly on her hip and she opened her mouth; Marni tasted like the peppermint schnapps they'd had after dinner.

"I want every day to end like this," Marni said, once they'd broken apart. She yawned again and rested her head against the crook of Mag's neck sleepily. "And to begin like this and all that other stuff in between as well."

Mag kissed the top of her head. "I'd like that very much."

 

\- - -

 

"I'm going to Smith!" Marni announced happily, as she threw open the door to their apartment and nearly flew inside. "Can you believe it?" She said, giddily. "I actually got in!"

"Oh, fantastic," Mag said, embracing the smaller girl in a hug. "See, I told you you'd get it. They would have been absolute fools to have no accepted a genius like you."

"Okay, fine, fine, you were right," Marni said, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm so excited! I'm so excited! I've always wanted to go to school on the East Coast and Smith is one of the best women's colleges in New England. I really thought maybe I wouldn't get in, I mean, tons of people apply there, but somehow I did! This is just, wow. I can't even fully process this right now."

"It's utterly amazing," Mag said and in trying to kiss her, accidentally hit her nose with her mouth.

Marni laughed good-naturedly and captured Mag's bottom lip in a kiss.

"Now you don't have to worry about leaving me behind in LA," Marni said, when they were both sitting on the couch that evening, watching TV and eating pizza. "You'll be touring the world and I'll be earning my graduate degree at Smith and maybe even interning somewhere if I'm lucky -- though I shouldn't make plans just yet, really, I'll jinx myself. We both got exactly what we wanted. Although," she said, after a moment, "it is for a whole two years."

"Yeah," Mag said, swallowing her mouthful of fried rice. "I mean, it's guess it's not really a long time, but it will certainly feel like a long time. I'll miss you."

"Oh, please, you'll be too busy to miss me," Marni teased gently. "While I'll just be sitting around doing work with no one to talk to." She sighed dramatically. "My life will be so empty."

"Obviously I'm going to call you every chance I get."

"I'd be pissed if you didn't," Marni told her.

"You're going to make so many new friends while I'm gone," Mag said, "and you're going to forget all about me."

"You wish."

"I miss you," Marni whined over the phone, four months later, when she was in Massachusetts and Mag was in England. "When are you coming back to the states?"

"Not for a while," Mag said, lying on the bed in her hotel room, completely exhausted from the day's events. "At least we get to talk on phone, though, right?"

"But it's not the same," Marni complained. "Everything here is so different and it's only October and it should not be this cold the first week into October, this is ridiculous."

Marni smiled to herself. "It's called the changing of the seasons, Marni," she said. "Something we don't have in California."

"Well, I disapprove."

Mag laughed.

"But, no, seriously, I really do miss you," Marni told her. "All I do is go to school and look for a job and it's so utterly boring, you have no idea. And there's no one to hang out with. Everyone's lame."

"Have you considered the fact that you may have ridiculously high standards when it comes to making new friends? Seriously, Marni, just, try to branch out. You're the nicest person I know; I'm sure you'd be making friends in no time, if you ever gave them a chance."

Marni sighed. "But no one is as cool as you, Mag."

"Now I know you're just trying to suck up to me to try and get me to leave the tour."

"No, but -- I mean, could you do that? -- everyone here is all, let's talk about the economy, and let's discuss the political climate of the midwest, blah blah feminist blah blah fiscal policy -- who cares."

"Apparently, them."

"But you get what I'm saying, right? It's all stuffy and boring and pretentious. And so is everyone else here. I mean, I love New England itself, but this is just, ugh, unbearable sometimes."

"Well, it's only for two years," Mag said kindly. "And besides, I do know that we're going to do some shows on the east coast, so maybe we'll get a chance to see each other then. And you know,I do miss you too. Very much so."

Marni said, "I know it's not the same thing as talking to you face-to-face, but it does make me feel just a bit better being able to talk to you every day." She paused. "I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"Marni, I'm the one calling you," Mag said. "And if I didn't want to talk to you, I'd just say it."

"Good."

"But I do have to go now," Mag said, stifling a yawn. "It's very late here and I have to get up early for another rehearsal."

"Oh, yeah, you have a show this weekend, right?"

"Yeah. It's our opener too, which has got everyone's stress levels through the roof."

Marni chuckled. "Understandably. So, I'll talk to you tomorrow then?"

"Of course. And try not to miss me so much,"Mag teased gently..

"Who are you again?" Marni asked, in a mock serious tone. "I don't think I know you."

"I'm just a stranger," Mag said.

 

\- - -

 

The thing Marni liked best about Nathan was how romantic he was.

Rotti was the complete opposite. He would send her flowers or gifts or something like that, but he never gave them to her himself; usually they were delivered to her, with a note from him tacked on the side, like an afterthought. It wasn't personal; it was like he was just going through the motions. Nathan, however, was different. He'd show up at her work and surprise her with a dozen roses or take her for walks in the park at night where, looking up, he'd point out the constellations, name the stars for her. And sometimes they could just sit without a word, just holding hands, Marni's head against his shoulder as she leaned into him blissfully.

And Nathan noticed things too. When Marni got her hair cut a certain way or got new clothes, he noticed. He noticed the color of her eyes, hazel sometimes, sometimes brown with little flecks of green, or the way her hair fell about her shoulders when it was down, falling in gentle waves. When he ran his fingers through her hair, as she kissed his neck, he smelled like soap and wool and she thought to herself, this is home. This is what it feels like to be home.

They probably shouldn't have doing this.

Correction: they definitely should not have been doing this.

Sometimes, when she was feeling uncomfortably moral, she'd think that maybe they should just stop; in her mind, it seems so easy to just tell Nathan that they needed to just end things, that it wasn't not right, that she was engaged to Rotti and they simply couldn't go on like this any longer. Of course, in her head, she hasn't fallen in love with Nathan, and Nathan doesn't look at her with those pale brown eyes that turn her inside out. And so when it comes to reality, Marni just doesn't say a word, just kisses him until they're both out of breath.

"I love you," Nathan said, and it didn't seem out of place or inappropriate.

And when Marni said, "I love you too," she was surprised to find how true it really is.

Rotti doesn't know.

Well, she certainly does hope that he doesn't know, even if she isn't exactly if he does or not. But she is fairly certain that if Rotti knew, he wouldn't have let it go on this long. After all, Rotti was the embodiment of jealousy; he would have probably had Nathan fired -- or worse, even, though Marni thought it was a bit unfair to think of him as being that cruel -- and he certainly would have ended their engagement by now. No, she decided, Rotti was completely in the dark about the whole affair.

She hated that word, affair. It seemed so scandalous, so dirty; it left a bad taste in her mouth. She didn't like to think of herself as having an affair. It was more like, she'd fallen out of love with Rotti and into love with Nathan instead. She just didn't have the heart to tell Rotti this. (She was a bit scared too, though she would have never readily admitted it to herself.) She knew he would be devastated when (or if, if; it wasn't right to say when, which seemed like a very decisive and binding word) she finally broke the news to him.

The worst part was, Mag was still in the dark about most of it. After all, it was one thing to keep secrets from Rotti. It was another thing all entirely different to keep secrets from Mag. And it wasn't as if she wanted to keep Nathan a secret from Mag -- she was sure that Mag would be very agreeable when it came to Nathan, or at least more so than she was as far as Rotti was concerned -- but she also knew that Mag had a lot of other things to worry about, and she didn't want to burden her with more. And, after all, she told herself, it wasn't as if Mag was clueless; she had told Mag about Nathan before.

"Marry me," Nathan whispered in her ear, one evening, when they were standing by the fountain in the park. "Please."

Marni put one hand on his cheek, stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "Of course," she said. "Of course, of course, of course."

 

"Okay, so, don't be mad," Marni started, when they were eating dinner. They were at a small restaurant on the outskirts of the city, one that her father had always taken her to when she was little, before he died. Mag had wanted to just stay in, but Marni had insisted they go out; she wanted to tell Mag about Nathan, and had somehow come to the conclusion that it would be best to tell her when they were out.

"Oh, no," Mag said, setting her fork down and rubbing her temple. "What is it now?"

"Promise you won't get mad."

"I'm not going to promise something like that," Mag said., eyes closed, looking rather in pain. "But I will promise I won't make a scene."

Marni bit her lip. "Well, alright, that's good enough," she said. "So, the thing is, I kind of might be engaged."

"What's so bad about that? I've known you were engaged for a while now."

"Engaged to Nathan," Marni said, clarifying.

Mag just sighed and covered her face with her hands. "Why?" She murmured to herself. 'Why, why, why does this always happen to me?"

Marni hesitated. "Are you mad?"

Mag didn't remove her hands, just sighed again and said, "I don't want to know the details, don't tell me why you're now engaged to Nathan when you should still be engaged to Rotti. In fact, I don't really want to know anything about this. Just tell me that you're really, actually serious about this and this is not some kind of joke."

"It's not. And I am. And I've never been more sure about anything in my life before,Mag, ever."

Mag looked at her, hands falling to her lap, fingers playing with her napkin nervously, tearing it to shreds. "And you're happy."

Marni beamed at her. "Ecstatic."

Mag looked down for a moment.

"Are -- are you mad?"

"I wouldn't say mad," Mag said, surprising herself. "More like worried."

"Why?"

Mag said, staring at her in disbelief, "Seriously, you don't know why? Hello, Rotti Largo, the most powerful man in the world, the man who could kill you if he wanted to, possibly in a thousand different ways? Yeah, that's the guy you're engaged to -- or were, anyway -- that you're now leaving so that you can go marry one of his best employees."

"Oh, well," Marni said sheepishly. "I hadn't really thought about that."

Mag felt a bit like screaming.

"Well, you're going to have to tell him eventually," she said, a minute later, when the urge had subsided.

Marni looked down at her lap. "I know, it's just. He's going to take it very badly."

"Of course he's going to take it badly! You're running off and marrying Nathan!"

"Mag, please," Marni said, eyes darting around the restaurant. "Keep your voice down."

"What were you thinking?"Mag asked in a furious whisper. "I support you Marni, I really do. I mean, Nathan is leagues better than Rotti and I'd much rather see you marry him, but, you just can't keep doing this."

'Doing what?" Marni whispered back.

"Being so damn indecisive. You need to make up your mind about what and who you want. For once. You can't have everyone, you can only have one. So if you choose Nathan, then great, fine, I won't be anything but happy for you. But you'd better be damn sure that this is exactly what you want and not just some passing fancy."

"It is," Marni said. "It feels real, Mag. And I know it's love. It's stronger than I ever felt with Rotti. Nathan is . . . he's sweet and he's kind and smart and funny and when I look at him I know I just want to spend the rest of my life with him. Just like I want to with you," she said, quieter now, reaching across the table to touch Mag's arm. "When I'm with him, it makes me feel like when I'm with you."

It was unintentional, but it stung. Mag had to bite down on the inside of her mouth to keep herself from letting tears form in her eyes. She reached across the table and took Marni's hand in her own.

"If you're happy, I'm happy," she said, forcing a smile.

 

"We have Mag's blessing," Marni told Nathan happily, grinning from ear to ear. "I thought maybe that she would get a bit upset about it, you know, where Rotti was concerned, but she seemed to take it rather well. Er, well enough as one could take news like that anyway. But! The point is, she's happy for me and she's happy for us."

Nathan, smiling, said, "I'm glad. I know she's the world to you, Marni."

"She does," Marni said softly, wrapping her arms around his waist. "And so do you."

Nathan kissed her, light and sweet and in the way that made Marni feel like swooning. When he pulled away, she pulled him back in; she thought that she could probably spend hours just kissing him. It was a ridiculous and silly notion, but she felt it was true all the same.

Later, Nathan said, "You still have to tell Rotti."

Marni frowned. "That is not going to go over well."

"I don't know," Nathan said thoughtfully. "Maybe he'll be okay with it. I mean, what he really wants for you is to be happy, right? If he really loves you, he'll let you go."

"I don't think Rotti will see it like that," Marni told him.

Rotti, as predicted, was furious and upset when Marni told him that the engagement was off.

"But, why?" He kept asking, over and over.

Finally, Marni said, "Because I don't love you."

It was like a slap in the face to Rotti. "Then all that time . . . You were just . . ."

"I wasn't lying," Marni said. "It's just, I used to love you. And now I don't. I'm." She bit her lip, hesitating. "I'm in love with Nathan. Nathan Wallace. And he asked me to marry him, and I said yes."

"You don't know what you're doing," Rotti said angrily, eyes flashing. "You're making a mistake."

Marni said nothing.

"What can he give you that I can't?" Rotti asked in a pleading tone. "I can give you everything that you ever wanted!"

"Look, I'm sorry," Marni said, looking away. "But I just can't."

She took off her ring and put it on Rotti's desk. And without another word she turned around and walked away.

 

"So, I take it things didn't go as well as expected, huh?" Mag asked that night.

"Not like I expected them to go all that well anyway," Marni told her, undressing.

Mag sighed. "I just really, really hope that things work out for you Marni. Because, if they don't . . ."

"Let's not talk about it anymore," Marni said. "I'm tired."

She slept in her own bed that night, for the first time in a while; Mag couldn't sleep at all that night.

 

\- - -

 

On the morning of Marni's wedding, Mag awoke to the sound of the alarm going off.

"Ugh, what time is it," Marni mumbled into her pillow, still half-asleep.

"Eight o'clock," Mag told her, still waking up herself. She rubbed her eyes.

"Too early," Marni said, her voice muffled by her pillow. "Sleep more."

"Now I'm starting to thinking that we really should have spent the night sleeping," Mag said with a groan, sitting up in bed and, with a yawn, stretched her arms up over her head. "Now you're going to be exhausted at your own wedding."

"Well, I was distracted," Marni said sleepily, giving Mag a lopsided smile. "Can you blame me for that?"

Mag sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "We should probably start getting ready -- well, you should, anyway; I have to go shower and then I'm off to San Diego."

Marni's smile faded. "I wish you didn't have to go," she said quietly.

"You know I'd give anything to be there," Mag said, touching Marni's cheek. "But I signed my name in blood and now I must do what I am told to do. Rotti says I go to San Diego: I go."

"But what's a wedding without a maid of honor?"

"Marni, please," Mag said, turning away. "Let's not make this any harder than it has to be. After all, you're getting married today; we should be happy about that. And besides, I'll be back again in a week and your honeymoon will be over by then; we can see each other then."

Marni put her hand against Mag's back, dragged her fingers along her curves. "I'm sorry if I upset you."

"Oh, no, it's all right," Mag lied, wiping away a tear with her thumb.

"Stay with me," Marni said softly. "Just for a bit. Please?"

Mag said, "I can't, I --"

"Please."

Mag looked at her; Marni suddenly seemed so small and vulnerable. She couldn't help herself; she said, "Fine, but only for a moment or so, okay?"

"Mm, Mag," Marni said, pulling Mag down next to her and snuggling in close. "Will you still like me when I'm an old married person?"

"Of course," Mag said, stroking her hair. "I love you."

"I'm glad," Marni said with a small smile, kissing Mag's bare shoulder and closing her eyes.

Mag wasn't sure how long they lay there until Marni fell asleep again. Mag smiled to herself and kissed Marni on the lips, lightly enough so that she wouldn't wake her. She untangled herself from Marni's embrace and went to go take a shower.

Marni was still asleep when Mag was done; Mag stood in the doorway to the bathroom and watched her sleep, her chest rising and falling with each slow, steady breath. As she dressed, she briefly considered waking Marni, just so that they goodbye's before she left. But then she decided against it; Marni needed her sleep. Today was a life-changing day for her. So instead, she re-set the alarm so that Marni wouldn't sleep through her own wedding, and, with light kiss to her forehead, left a note scribbled on an envelope that said, Didn't want to wake you. I hope today is the day all your dreams come true. I'll miss you. And I'll call you. Beneath that she'd put a little heart with the initial, M, next to it.

She looked back once before she left. She knew she'd never get another chance to see Marni like this again.

 

\- - -

 

That year, Mag spent Christmas day with Marni and Nathan, in their house across town.

It was also the day that Marni announced that she was pregnant.

 

"What are you going to name her?" Mag asked one lazy Saturday afternoon when the two of them were walking in the park. "It is a girl, right?"

"Yes, and I don't know yet," Marni said, hands in her jacket pockets. "Nathan wants it to be a traditional name, which is alright, I suppose. But I want it to be something special, you know? I want it have something unique. See, that's what I like about you Marni -- you're unique, in every sense of the word. I want my child to be like that."

Mag smiled and the two walked along in silence for a bit.

"I want you to be the godmother," Marni said after a time, as they sat down on a bench nearby the pond.

"What?" Mag asked, surprised.

"I want you to be the godmother to our child," Marni repeated with a wide grin. "You mean the world to me, Mag, you always have. I want you to be a part of this child's life -- I can't imagine it any other way."O" She looked over at Mag hopefully. "Say you will be, please?"

"Of course!" Mag said, hugging her tightly. "Of course I would, Marni," she said, kissing Marni's neck through her hair, "did you think I would ever say anything different than that?"

"Not really," Marni chuckled, and held her close. "But I wanted to ask anyway."

When Marni dropped Mag off at her apartment later that same afternoon, Mag paused as she started to get out and turned around to face Marni. She said, "Shilo."

Marni looked at her curiously.

"The baby," Mag said. "I think you should name your daughter Shilo."

"That's a pretty name, what does it mean?"

Mag said, "It's Hebrew. If I can remember correctly from the Sunday school classes my parents forced me to go to when I was in elementary school, it's from the Bible. I think it means prophet or 'he who is sent' or something like that. Anyway, it's pretty unique, but it has very old roots."

Marni gave her a small smile. "I like it. And I think Nathan will approve -- when he was little, before the epidemic, his family was quite religious. This should appeal to that side of him."

"Let me know what he says," Mag said, climbing out of the car. She shut the door and leaning over, rested her hands on the sill of the open car window. "When will I see you again?"

"I've got a huge deadline coming up in the next few days, but feel free to come if you want. Just know I'm going to be crazy busy, so I might be a little distracted."

"I wouldn't want to keep you from your work."

"Oh, it's alright, really. Anyway, I think Nathan has the long shifts this weekend at hospital, so it'll be just me at the house; it'd be nice if you came over for dinner. We could order some Chinese food or whatever, camp out on the couch and watch some movies or TV or whatever."

"I'd like that."

"Just call then and let me know when you want to come over."

"Alright."

Mag turned away and started up the steps to her apartment complex. She turned around and flashed Marni one last smile as Marni waved goodbye. Mag stood on the steps watching Marni drove off into the distance; she didn't go inside until after Marni's car had completely disappeared beyond the horizon.

 

When Marni was eight months pregnant, Rotti sent Mag on a tour through Europe.

Mag had argued with him at first; what if Marni had Shilo prematurely? It was rare nowadays, but it still could happen and Mag wanted to be there with Marni when her goddaughter was born. Rotti reminded her of her debt, of her contract, and still Mag had resisted. It wasn't until Rotti told her , in that smug, condescending tone of his that Mag hated, that she'd never be able to see Marni's daughter if she went back to being blind. And so Mag had given in, and four days later she was on a plane to Germany.

Marni, of course, wasn't worried.

"You'll be back in plenty of time," she told Mag over the phone. "I'm only just barely into my eighth month and besides, your tour won't take that long. It'll last, what, a month? Five weeks? You'll be back before Shilo's born. And if you aren't, I'll just hold her in until you do get back."

Mag giggled at the mental image of Marni just crossing her arms and refusing to let her daughter be born.

"See?" Marni was saying. "You don't have anything to worry about."

"Mag said, "I can't wait to be back in Los Angeles. I've never wanted to be back there as much as I do now. I miss you. And I want to see you. And Nathan too, actually, now that I think about it."

"You two are growing on each other," Mag said happily. "I knew it was just a matter of time. And oh, you'd better not coddle our daughter," she went on, adopting a serious tone. "Because I know Nathan is just going to be wrapped around her finger. He'll be hopeless. You need to be the strong one."

"I don't think I'd be very good at that," Mag admitted. "I was thinking maybe I'd teach her how to sing. Maybe have little concerts with her at your house."

"Oh, oh!" Marni said, very much pleased at the idea of that. "Don't tell Nathan that; we must do it someday to surprise him. He'd love something like that."

"I'd be a cool godmom," Mag said proudly. "She'll come visit me and I'll let her stay up as late as she wants and have ice cream for breakfast."

Marni laughed. "You are going to spoil her rotten, aren't you Maggie?"

"Of course! What's the point in having a goddaughter if I can't?"

Marni laughed again. "Ugh, ugh," she groaned, a few minutes later, "Did I mention that this pregnancy has made me ridiculously fat? I mean, more so than you'd expect. I'm like a freaking blimp," Marni complained, and Mag chuckled.

"You're not fat," Mag said, "you're just pregnant."

"Says you," Marni said. "You haven't been here to see me -- I've probably eaten more food in the past few months than I ever have in my entire life. You'll come back and I'll be all fat and lazy and you'll still be all fit and trim and no worse for wear at all."

Mag laughed. "I very much doubt that," she said.

"When are you coming home, Mag?" Marni asked, all hint of playfulness gone from her voice.

"Why, what's wrong?" Mag was suddenly worried. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Marni sighed into the phone, "it's just, I miss you. I miss not being able to see you, to talk to you."

"We talk on the phone almost every night."

"But it's not the same, Mag. Phones are so impersonal. I want you to be sitting here beside me. You and Nathan, and soon, my daughter -- you're really all I have. I have my job, too, I guess. But I'm starting to tire of it, Mag, truthfully. And I don't hate it and I don't regret anything I've done, it's just . . . I wanted so much more than this, you know?"

Mag felt very tired and sad. "Why are you saying all of this now?"

She heard Marni sigh again on the other end of the phone.

"I don't know, Mag," Marni said. "I really don't. All of a sudden these feelings came bubbling up to the surface and I don't know where they're coming from."

"It's the pregnancy," Mag said quickly. "That must be it. I mean, mood swings . . ."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Marni murmured.

To Mag, it sounded like defeat.

 

\- - -

 

"Marni, I told you, we're not watching Gattaca again."

"Ugh, you're so uncultured, Mag," Marni said, feigning annoyance.

"What? What does that even mean? Gattaca is a decent movie that came out last century. Yes, it does make decent observations about genetics and science run amok -- much like most of the stuff you read and watch, I actually am just starting to notice a pattern here -- but it's too heavy on the drama for my tastes."

"Says the girl who cites Titanic as one of her favorite movies."

Marni said, not as seriously as she would have liked, "Titanic is a somewhat fictional movie about a terrible tragedy. Of course it's drama, it's all about real life. Unlike Gattaca, which tries to be a stoic, scientific movie and utterly fails. Besides," she added, "if you knew anything, you'd know that when it comes to my favorite movies, I value American Beauty much more highly than Titanic."

Marni laughed, falling down onto the couch beside Mag. "Oh, yes, I forgot and the other completely serious, not dramatic at all movie that you like."

Mag shoved her playfully. "Whatever. But we are still not watching Gattaca."

Marni laughed again. "Alright, alright, I get it. So what do you want to do, then?"

"I don't know. Why don't you read something to me?"

"I've already read everything to you. And we finished the newest issue of Life yesterday, so that's out of the question. Uh, all I have are my textbooks, and trust me, you do not want to listen to me drone on and on about whether or not it is necessary for one to use proper grammar, punctuation, and sentence structure in order to properly convey the message in a book or bit of poetry. Really," she added, after a moment. "It's insanely boring."

Mag sighed.

"Why don't you sing for me?" Marni asked, after some time.

"What?" Mag flushed slightly.

"Come on, I know you've been practicing. Why don't you give me a preview of some of the songs you're going to be singing at your recital?"

"I . . . I don't know," Mag said slowly, feeling rather self-conscious. "I mean, I haven't warmed up or anything and I don't think I've got all the pronunciations down correctly and I may mess something up."

"So what?" Marni said gently. "Come on, please?"

"Well." Mag hesitated. "Well, I won't sing you any of my new songs. But I'll sing you an old one, alright?"

"Alright," Marni agreed, lying back down on the couch, resting her head in Mag's lap, eyes closed.

Mag's fingers played with her hair, brushing it out of Marni's eyes, stroking it gently. The song she sang wasn't in English, but in Italian. Marni didn't understand a word of it, but eyes closed, listening to Mag sing, she thought of summer days when they'd lie on their backs in the grass in the park, listening to the wind blow through the trees. And she thought of Mag's bed, how the sheets always smelled like the beach, like salty air and sand and sunscreen lotions and diet Cokes. She barely even noticed as the song ended, the last note trailing off into silence.

"Did you like it?" Mag asked, uncertain, hands stilling.

Marni took one of Mag's hands in her own, traced her thumb across the lines of her palm, kissed it.

 

\- - -

 

Mag doesn't really remember the day Marni died.

She thinks she does, but she doesn't. She can remember it was sunny out that day, which was odd, because she'd heard on the news the night before that they were to expect rain and, besides that, with all the pollution around now, the skies had become so clouded that it always seemed like permanent dusk. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue that morning, too; that she remembered, and she remembered thinking that it was a bit odd, because she hadn't seen the sky in . . . well, longer than she could remember. But other than that, the unusually sunny day and bright blue sky, she remembers nothing. She doesn't remember the phone call from Nathan doesn't remember taking the sleeping pills, but she knows that she woke up in the morning with the pill bottle beside her bed on the nightstand.

 

And Marni was dead.

It was almost funny, really, Mag thought, in a ridiculous sort of way, that she was dealing with this so well. But then again, she wasn't really dealing with this so much as she just never let herself think of it. Whenever an image or memory popped into her head, she just immediately forced herself to think of something else. Even Marni's name had become something she didn't even let cross her mind. She didn't even say it out loud anymore.Marni was just her, she, and, sometimes, we and us.

 

When she wasn't working, she was home. If she didn't take sleeping pills, she lay on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. She felt as if this was the wrong way of going about things, but she didn't know of any better way to deal with this, this feeling of emptiness. She remembered when her parents died, remembered how she cried for days, weeks, even. And for months after that she couldn't even talk about it; their deaths had crushed her.

 

But this was different.

She'd always had Marni. Marni was the constant in her life, the one thing she could always count on being there. She was everything to Mag; she was her eyes when she was blind, her friend when she needed it, her lover when she desired it. Marni held her heart in her hands from the day they'd met. She thought maybe that she was just dreaming this all, that perhaps it was just a very long, unpleasant dream. Or perhaps she'd fallen and hit her head and this was all just some sort of coma-dream, a hideous possibility come true in her mind. Either way, one day she'd wake up, open her eyes, and everything would be how it should be. She imagined Marni sitting next to her bed, perhaps with her legs crossed, reading a book or dozing in her chair, head slumped forward or maybe even holding on to one of Mag's hands, waiting for her.

A year passed. And then two years went by. Nothing changed; she didn't expect it to.

She didn't even have a goddaughter to remember Marni by.

She felt robbed.

 

She went to Marni's grave, sometimes, when she could stand it. She doesn't remember the funeral or Marni being buried; that whole time is just one big blur to her. Maybe she was out of the country when all that took place, she's not quite sure. And she's not quite sure if she even wants to be sure.

Marni was buried in the Wallace family tomb; which, when Marni tried the door, discovered was locked. Mag wondered if Nathan had made it that way, and if so, why, because it just seemed to Mag like a ridiculous sort of thing to do. But she couldn't go in, so she stood at the door and looked inside. She could see Marni's grave, inscribed with her name and the dates of her birth and death. Under that it said, beloved wife and mother.

It seemed almost surreal to her, to be standing there right now.

She put her hands up against the bars of the window.

"Hey, " she said, and suddenly she felt tears stinging in her eyes. "It's me," she said.

Sometimes she would just go and sit at the steps of the tomb, would stay there for hours sitting on the cold, worn down cement steps. When she'd finally stand up, her muscles would be sore and her joints would ache and the pain would bring her crashing back down to the real world, back to present day.

Sometimes she'd go and talk to Marni. She'd say, "I miss you," or "I had a dream last night that you were still here with me." And then there were times when she would sing to Marni, sing songs that she remembers performing in recitals back when they were much younger and when everything was simpler.She doesn't sing loudly and sometimes she forgets the words, but she thinks that Marni would have liked to hear her do it anyway.

Eventually she stopped going.

It hurt too much.

 

Nathan shut himself away from the world. Mag went to visit him once, but he wouldn't let her in. She stood out on his doorstep for five minutes before she just couldn't stand how awkward it was. After that, she never saw him. She probably could have tried harder, tried to reach out more. But what was the point? They should have been able to grieve together, they should have tried to comfort one another. But they didn't, and there it was, as simple as that.

Mag felt like she was being crushed from all sides.

Rotti offered his condolences and Mag hated him for it. There was something in the way he said it, the look in his eyes; he was almost too sympathetic, almost too sincere. She knew that he hated Marni for what she did to him and she didn't buy into it for one second, even though some small part of her wanted to believe that it was possible that he did still care for her, on some, twisted kind of level.

She lost herself in her work. It was really the only thing she had left, now that Marni was gone. Her life became one giant blur; rehearsals, promotions, photo shoots, concerts all blurred together until she couldn't separate the minutes from the hours and the days from the weeks. She didn't even bother to keep track of the time, the months that seemed to crawl by, though she couldn't even remember the days that made them up. The Genetic Opera came and went, twice a year, just as always, and that was the only certainty in her life. If there was a world outside of GeneCo, it was lost to her.

There were times when she would cry, usually at three o'clock in the morning, into her pillow, trying very hard to keep quiet, even though there was no one around to hear her. It was times like this where she slept restlessly, where her dreams were filled with whispers of Marni's voice, and she'd bolt up, heart racing and her head pounding. And then she would cry and her headache would only worsen and she'd lie awake in bed for the rest of the night, not wanting to fall back to sleep. Sometimes she wondered what would happen if she just didn't move, just decided one day not to face the world and just lie in bed. She considered what it would be like to never go out, to never see anyone again, to never sing another song, but not sure if a world like that would be preferable to this one.

Everything had gone to waste.

Her whole life she'd wished for sight, to be able to see the sky, the stars at night, fireworks exploding in the sky in the summer. And now that she could, she wished she couldn't. Her sight was a curse, not a blessing; one day on the street in New York city she saw a man wearing a scarf the color of Mag's eyes. Another time she saw a girl with hair like Marni's, was almost convinced it was Marni, until the girl turned around and the inevitable disappointment followed. Even still, another time she saw two girls in the park, walking hand-in-hand, giggling and smiling, and she had to sit down on a bench by the pond, pressing her face into her hands, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with sadness and longing.

She had but one picture of Marni: she and Marni standing in the city somewhere, laughing, their arms around each other and looking away from the photographer. She can't remember when the picture was taken or who took it or where they even were. They look about nineteen or so. Marni gave her the picture once for Christmas. Here, Marni had said, handing it to her, in its simple, silver frame. It's for when you go off touring the world. Just something to remind you that I'm still here waiting for you.

 

\- - -

 

"Do you ever wonder what it's like to die?"

"What?" Mag asked.

They were lying on the couch in their first apartment, the one they got right out of high school when they both decided they'd rather live together and commute to their respective colleges then have to deal with dorms and roommates and all that.

"Well, do you?"

"This is certainly a morbid subject," Mag said, resting her head on Marni's chest. "Should I even ask why you're bringing it up?"

"I don't know. I was just lying here, thinking about my dad and my sister and then I started to think about how it's still strange to me that I'll never see them again, even if I wanted to. And then I started thinking about death and what it's like to die. I can't imagine it."

"Well, I don't suspect anyone really can. I mean, I'm sure we all think we know what it'd be like, but we wouldn't actually know until it happened. The only people who do know are the ones who have experienced it first hand, and obviously they can't tell us now that they do. Know, that is."

"I think you don't know you're dying when you are," Marni said thoughtfully. "I think your brain goes somewhere else and brings up a nice memory, like seeing a rainbow over a waterfall or counting the stars from a rooftop. And so you're thinking of this and you're not thinking, oh, I'm dying. Maybe you are on a subconscious level and maybe you know it beforehand -- like when people drown and they realize they're suffocating and they're going to die -- but the instant when it happens, you don't know it does."

Mag thought about that for a bit.

"Do you think there's a heaven?"

Mag felt Marni laugh and shift underneath her.

"I thought you said religion was rubbish," Marni said.

"I know, I did," Mag said, "and I still think that. But you kind of have to wonder why people clung to an idea like heaven for so long, why some people still do. There's something so terrifying about dying. No one knows what it's like or what happens to you afterwards; it's this huge mystery that just scares the hell out of people. So they say, well, if you're a good person, this is what happens to you, and if you're bad, this is what happens to you. It makes things simple. Understandable. Suddenly death seems a whole less scary."

"I wouldn't say that," Marni said. "Death not being scary. I think it still is, I just think that people can rest easier with the knowledge -- or hope, rather, I should say -- that in the end something happens. To just think of yourself in a little wooden box in the ground -- well, you wouldn't be thinking of yourself if you were dead, because you wouldn't know it, so I suppose it wouldn't matter -- but, that's what scares people.

"The fact that maybe there isn't a purpose to life, that maybe we all just live out our lives and then die, and that's just it."


	3. Part Three

  
there are only so many tomorrows.  
\-- pope paul iv

 

 

 

"Let's spend Christmas in New York City," Marni had said, lazy summer weekend morning when they were lying together in the sheets.

Mag giggled. "Why?"

"Because," Marni had said, tracing shaped on Mag's stomach. "I want to see the snow."

So Christmas of their junior year of college they were in New York City, walking down the crowded streets, arm in arm. Mag walked unsteadily along the pavements, all of this completely new to her. And Marni was patient, as always, and kept her shielded as best as she could from the other pedestrians and moved slowly with her. Waiting at a crosswalk, she rested her head on Mag's shoulder, sighed, breathed in the cold December air. And when they were in the park, Marni kissed her on one of the benches, even though Mag said they shouldn't. But Marni said it was New York City and no one cared about that kind of thing there -- as if they did in Los Angeles _anyway_ , she'd added -- and besides, no one knew them here.

Marni's lips, cool and sticky with lip gloss, pressed against hers, and Mag couldn't resist kidding her back.

On Christmas Eve they stayed up half the night curled up on the bed together in their hotel room watching movies. They watched _It's a Wonderful Life_ (which made them both cry) and _A Christmas Story_ which Marni admitted she had always adored as a child. Marni nodded off to sleep somewhere in the middle of _A Christmas Carol_ and Mag smiled to herself and kissed Marni lightly, before shutting off the television and lying down beside her. Marni sighed and still half-asleep, wrapped her arms around Mag.

In the morning they woke up and exchanged good mornings and kisses and wished each other a merry Christmas and Marni scrambled out of bed eagerly, bounding off into the next room to fetch their presents. In bed they sat and opened them; Mag gave Marni a set of books by Margaret Atwood and Marni gave her a book a arias from the early nineteenth century. She explained that they weren't in Braille, but maybe she could help Mag transcribe them? Either way, she hoped that Mag liked them.

"I do! And this book has been out of publication for _forever_! How'd you managed to find it?" Mag asked, astonished, running her hand over the cover of the book.

"I can't tell you that!" Marni laughed. "It's a secret."

"Well, thank you," Mag said, smiling. "It's very sweet."

"Oh, look!" Marni said, later, throwing open the curtains to the double-set of wide windows in their hotel room. "It's snowing out."

"Oh," Mag said. "I almost forgot about snow."

Upon Marni insistence, they went outside, bundled up in coats and scarves and mittens. Marni giggled as they tumbled out onto the streets of the city, holding Mag by the arm, snow falling all around them. They went to the park, since Marni said it would be beautiful there, and even if Mag couldn't see it, she wanted to share the moment with her. Mag could feel the snow landing on her skin, burning her for a flash of a second before melting away.

At the park, they fell into the fresh powdered snow; Mag showed Marni how to make a snow angel.

Lying there, holding hands, Marni could see snow, stark white against Mag's dark hair, could see snowflakes on her eye lashes, which beat like butterflies against Marni's cheek when she kissed her.

 

\- - -

 

She would have liked to say that she got used to it. But she didn't.

It was always there, that dull, heavy ache in her heart, a constant reminder of what used to be. Sometimes it lessened and sometimes it felt like it had disappeared entirely all together. but that was never for very long, and usually the feeling would come rushing back to her, hard and fast enough to make her sick and dizzy. And, when she could be truthful, she was tired of it, of everything. She thought, sometimes, about just giving up and breaking her contract with GeneCo; would it really be all that bad to be blind again? It seemed a small price to pay for freedom. But then she would think of Marni, of how badly Marni had wanted to grant her the gift of sight, and well, it made her feel guilty. Like she'd be betraying her somehow. Marni would have told her to just soldier on; she would have said, sometimes in life you need to make sacrifices.

Mag wasn't entirely sure that Marni _would_ say something like that; Marni's philosophies on life seemed to change by the hour. But at least the thought of it was comforting.

Back when they were younger, Marni had a life motto. That was what she called it, anyway, proudly, like she was showing off a medal or something. It was a phrase, probably one she'd read in a poetry book or something: _chase the morning, yield for nothing_. Marni liked to pretend that it was hers, that it meant something personal to her. Perhaps it did, but it's meaning was lost on Mag, who just saw it as a pretty little verse and nothing more. She didn't really think it made sense to anyone to Marni, which, actually, was rather fitting, since really, the only person who ever really knew who Marni was, who understood her, was Marni herself.

"You're a mess," she told her reflection in the mirror, standing in front of the sink, fresh out of the shower, wet hair dripping onto the floor.

Her reflection just stared back at her with wide, electric blue eyes.

In the living room she curled up on the couch in her bathrobe, hair damp and curly; she ran a hand through it and sighed. The new music for the upcoming Genetic Opera lay discarded on the end table in the hallway. She should have been looking through it, but her head was still aching from the concert in San Francisco two nights earlier, so instead she turned on the television.

She saw herself, an advertisement for the Genetic Opera; she hurriedly clicked to the next channel. The last thing she wanted to do was see something like that, as if she didn't have to deal with it every single day. On another channel a news reporter was presenting a story on a natural disaster in Asia. That was too real; she moved on. Somewhere around the six-hundreds, she stumbled upon _Gattaca_. For a moment, she was torn between watching it and just changing the channel. In the end, she decided to do neither, and turned it off.

"You're late," Amber growled, as Mag entered the recording studio that evening.

Mag ignored her.

"Hey, answer me when I speak to you," Amber snapped angrily, standing up.

"I'm not your trained pet," Mag said quietly, undoing the buttons on her jacket.

Amber laughed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I think you're forgetting about your little debt, Mag."

Mag said, "My debt is with your father and it's no business of yours how I act. Now, if you'll excuse me," she said, tucking her sheet music and notes under her arm. "I have a CD to record."

Amber made a _tch_ sound and said, "Just wait, Mag. Daddy may like to keep you around now, but one day you'll find out just how disposable you really are. We won't have a need for you any longer, once I'm the new star of the Genetic Opera."

Mag just kept quiet.

 

\- - -

 

"This is so ridiculous," Marni said with a groan, shoving her books onto the floor.

Mag looked up. "What is?"

"Oh, um, calculus. I hate it. Actually, I just hate math in general, it really doesn't even have anything to do with Calculus specifically. I just don't see the point in it; I mean, I'm never going to major in it or anything, so why should I even bother taking it?"

"Because you can," Mag offered helpfully. "You're certainly smart enough to be taking it as a junior, you should take some pride in that."

"Yeah, but, I don't know," Marni said helplessly. "I still hate it. I mean, okay, sure, I suppose I'm alright at it, but who can't do math? I mean," she added quickly, glancing over at Mag, "that is, barring any sort of physical disability. Or mental, at that. It's just numbers and calculations. It's all very straightforward. There's nothing to think about."

Mag laughed. "I know so many people who would strongly disagree with you there."

Marni shrugged. "Yeah, well. It doesn't really matter anyway, because I'm absolutely failing Calculus. Okay, maybe not _failing_ ," she went on, "but definitely doing poorly in it. More poorly than usual, anyway."

"So why don't you just ask for help?"

"I can barely understand what the teacher's getting at in class. If I go see her, it'll only confuse me more."

"Then find someone in your class that can help you."

"No, I don't think so," Marni said, picking at a scab on her arm. "I don't think it would do any good."

Mag gave her a knowing smile. "You just don't like admitting you need help."

"It doesn't have anything to do with that."

"Oh yeah?" Mag said skeptically. "Then what is it?"

Marni said, "It's just, I hate everyone in my class."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true!"

"What about that girl you were talking to on AIM the other day?" Mag asked her. "You know, the one you were reading out loud to me?"

Marni scoffed. "Please, I'm not friends with her. Barely even acquaintances, really. And besides, you know, she's really not that great. I don't really like her all that much."

"Don't you like _anyone_ at our school?"

Marni said, "Duh, obviously. I like you."

Mag grinned. "Well, thanks. But, I mean. _Besides_ me."

"People are innately boring," Marni said, with a long, drawn-out sigh, as she flopped back down onto her bed beside Mag. "And people our age are the worst. Gossip and dances and celebrities; it's all a big joke. None of this matters in the long run. You'd think that people would have learned that, after the epidemic, but no, everyone just carries on like they're invincible. Like they just have forever to live and it's alright to waste their time worrying about stupid stuff like that.

And anyway, it's all boring. I mean, who really cares? Once high school is over, no one's ever going to see anyone else again. And now you've just wasted four years of your life trying to establish these relationships with people, when, they won't ever last. No one stays friends forever."

Mag looked down at her lap.

"Oh, but, no, I don't mean _us_ ," Marni said suddenly, touching Mag's hand. "You and I, we're the lucky ones. We're not just friends for the sake of it. I can just sit here with you for hours and neither of us has to speak, and it's okay. It doesn't feel forced or awkward or boring. It just feels," she searched for the word, " _right_. It feels right."

Mag titled her head and looked at her, a half-smile on her face. "But what happens when high school is over?"

"I won't leave you," Marni said stubbornly. "Where you go, I will go."

"Where I die, you will die?"

"Exactly," Marni laughed, breaking the tension. "Hey! I thought you said you weren't religious."

"Everyone knows that verse, Marni."

Marni said, "Then I'll be your Naomi and you can be my Ruth and we can stay this way forever."

 

\- - -

 

She doesn't remember when she fell in love with Marni.

She does, however, remember when she _realized_ she was in love with Marni. It was in her sixth period class, AP US History, junior year. She should have been paying attention and taking notes, because their mid-term was next week, but her laptop remained untouched on her desk. Instead, she was thinking about Marni that day at lunch, of Marni the day before, of Marni three weeks ago, until it all just became one steady stream of consciousness: _MarniMarniMarni_ , and then it became just one single thought: _love_. The sudden realization startled her. How was it possible that she could have felt this way for so long -- and thinking about it, yes, she _had_ felt this way for a while now, though she wasn't quite sure for _how_ long -- and not even realize it?

"What's wrong?" Marni asked that afternoon, while they were in the library working on their essays for English class. "You seem distracted."

"There's nothing wrong," Mag had said. "I'm just . . . trying to get this done."

She imagined what it would be like to tell Marni how she really felt, to just turn and look at her and announce, _I've fallen completely head-over-heels in love with you_. And, for a moment, she seriously considered doing just that. Marni was unpredictable though; who knew what she might say to something like that? Or, God, how she would _react_ to something like that.

Mag decided it was better not to risk it

Although Marni _must_ have known, she thought frantically, she probably even figured it out months ago. But if Marni knew, she didn't let on, and Mag didn't say anything about it either, even though sometimes the urge to kiss her was so overwhelming that she felt she would be overcome by it.

There were times when she allowed herself to fantasize, imagine that one day Marni would just grab her and kiss her. She imagined their lips crashing together, bodies pressed against each other. And then she would think of how ridiculous such a scene was, since Marni would never do a thing like that. She was more refined, more careful. She would move in close, so that Mag could feel her breath on her lips, would lean in so agonizingly slow that Mag would think she was going to die if she had to wait any longer.

But those are just daydreams, nothing more. She's not naive enough to think that either of those things would ever happen. She was happy enough to have Marni as a friend, even if she did desire, secretly, for their relationship to be deeper than that. But she knew that Marni would never feel the same way about her, so there was no point in believing that there was at chance that what she longed for would come true.

"You know, you look very pretty when you're thinking," Marni told her once, fondly.

"What?" Mag had asked, startled, flushing.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Marni had said, with a slight laugh. "It's just, when you're thinking, your face kind of takes on this -- I don't even know how to describe it. You look completely lost in your own world. And you do. Look pretty, I mean. I don't know what it is."

"T-thanks," Mag stammered out, still flushed.

Marni giggled and said, "What, are you embarrassed?"

"No," Mag said.

"Your face is all red," Marni laughed. "Oh, I'm sorry Mag, I didn't mean to embarrass you in any way."

"No, really, it's okay," Mag said, lowering her head. "I'm just surprised, is all."

 

 

Mag had never had many friends.

Actually, to be quite honest, she'd never really had _any_ friends. She's always felt rather awkward in social situations, owning much to the fact that she couldn't exactly see people's facial expressions, and thus couldn't judge their reactions, or what they thought of her. Ergo, she didn't branch out much and didn't really know, well, anyone at school. It didn't really bother her all that much; it wasn't as if weren't friendly toward her, they just usually didn't know how to act around her. And besides, she wasn't lonely. She had her music to keep her busy, and she had friends online, which she figured was just as good as having regular friends. And in general, she actually kind of enjoyed being by herself.

But Marni, Marni was different.

She can still remember the first day that they met, as clearly if it were only yesterday. Marni was so awkward around her at first, so hesitant. Unsure. Uncertain. But not for long. She was never condescending around Mag, like so many people were, never treated her like she was different. Mag couldn't understand why someone like Marni, someone cool, so confident in themselves, so self-assured, would want to be friends with her. What Marni saw in her, Mag never really knew. Even if she had asked, she doubted that Marni would have given her a straight answer. Her answer had always changed, depending on what she thought was best fitting for the time, or what she thought Mag wanted to hear.

She was pretty, she was awesome, she was different. Cool, intriguing, special, talented.

She was all of these things, according to Marni. Marni could never seem to decide on just one answer.

Mag knew what she liked best about Marni though: she was kind.

She was kind and she was soft-spoken, gentle, compassionate, if flighty. She made Mag's heart race with just a small touch of her hand, showed Mag the world through her eyes. She was everything that Mag _wished_ she could be. Marni only ever wanted the best for her, had delusions of grandeur not for herself, but for Mag. And she was everything to Mag.

"Your kisses are always so gentle," Marni told her, though not unkindly."You can be rough with me sometimes. I'm not fragile, I won't break."

"But I might though," Mag had said. "When I kiss you, my heart beats so hard, it feels like it might break my chest. I need to kiss you softly to keep from bursting."

"My ribs ache just from waking and thinking of you," Marni said. "We can be bruised together."

Mag's hands moved of their own accord, gripping Marni's shirt and pulling her in, pressing their lips together fiercely.

 

\- - -

 

A week and a half before Mag was scheduled to come back to the States, Marni grew ill.

"What? What's wrong?" Mag asked, half-frantic, cradling her cell phone between her shoulder in her ear as she got dressed for the concert she had in half an hour. "Nathan, tell me what's wrong."

"I don't know," Nathan said helpless. "I mean, she was yesterday. And then last night, before bed, she said she wasn't feeling too well. Naturally I rushed her to the hospital, thinking maybe it had something to do with the pregnancy. But they didn't see anything wrong with her; they said it was possible that she could be in the early stages of the flu -- but you know how treatable that is, it's nothing to worry about at all -- so I wasn't worried." He paused. "Well, I wasn't _as_ worried. But this morning when I woke up, she just looked awful. Pale and sweaty and . . . and . . ."

"Nathan. _Nathan_. Take her to the doctor."

"I-I did! And they said they don't know what's wrong with her. I'm at the hospital right now, they said they're going to keep her here for a few days and find out what's happening."

Mag chewed her bottom lip nervously. "Well, tell me what the doctor's say, okay? I'm sorry I can't talk, I have to finish getting ready -- this is awful, I'm totally screwed for tonight's performance, I'll never be able to do it." She forced herself to calm down. "I'll call you when I'm finished."

"Okay," Nathan said, sounding almost on the verge of tears.

"And tell Marni you talked to me, okay? Tell her that she needs to get better. She _needs_ to."

"Right. Yes, you're right, of course. I'll tell her. It may make her perk up a bit," Nathan said, though he didn't sound like he believed his own words. "Have a good show Mag," he added, dully, after a moment.

"Don't worry, Nathan," Mag said, wondering if she was trying to convince just him or herself as well. "Everything will be okay."

But when Mag called back, exhausted from the show and with worry, Marni's condition still hadn't improved. Nathan told her that the doctor's were still trying to figure out what was wrong with her, but for now had put her on some general antibiotics to see if that would help her at all.

"Can I talk to her?" Mag asked.

"Yes, yes, of course," Nathan said, and Mag heard him as he covered the phone with his hand, heard Marni's voice in the background, asking who it was.

"Mag?" Marni asked into the phone. She sounded very tired.

"Marni, oh, Marni, yes, it's me," Mag said, suddenly feeling very desperate.

"How was your concert?"

"Fine, fine," Mag said, brushing the question off. "How are you feeling? What's wrong, what happened? Marni, I'm so worried."

"I'll be fine," Marni said. "The doctors just think that I may have caught a particularly strong case of the flu or something like that. They said I don't look that bad."

"You sound awful."

Marni coughed. "Hey, thanks a lot," she said, and Mag couldn't help but smile a bit.

"I'm going to call Rotti," she told Marni. "To see if he'll let me end the tour early. I mean, he probably won't, but it won't hurt to try, will it? But he _has_ to let come see you, he _must_."

But Rotti told her no. Mag begged him, pleaded with him, argued with him. She threatened to quit and break her contract if Rotti didn't let her go see Marni. Rotti just laughed and said that they were empty threats, that, even if Mag did have the guts to leave, she wouldn't likely be able to see Marni again anyway, unless she survived the repossession of her eyes. He made it very clear that Mag needed GeneCo more than GeneCo needed her, and Mag hung up the phone violently, nearly throwing it across the room.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she sobbed into the phone, when she called Marni the next day. "I have to finish out my tour. Rotti won't let me cut if off early, even though I threatened to quit."

Mag heard Marni sigh. "I don't want you to get hurt, Mag. Just finish up this last week and then come back to me, okay?"

Mag nodded, sniffling. "Yes."

"Don't cry, Maggie," Marni told her softly. "It will all be okay, don't worry. Look, the baby's fine, we know that. The doctors did some tests and they said she's still all right. And I'm feeling better now, too, honestly. I think whatever they gave me is starting to kick in."

"I love you, Marni."

"I know," Marni said kindly. "And really, don't worry. When you get back I'll be as good as new."

Mag barely slept at all that last week of her tour; she couldn't sleep, knowing that Marni was sick. If it had just been something regular, just a cold, she wouldn't have been as worried. If the doctor's weren't sure what was wrong with her . . . Well, she was just going to think positively. Marni was strong, she would fight through anything; she knew that. It was just, well, Marni was pregnant, which put her in a slightly weaker state, and then there was the health of the baby to think about -- oh, she wanted to be by Marni's side more than anything right now. Mag didn't think it would help any, but she couldn't stand not knowing what was going on, being on the opposite side of the world and feeling completely useless. She should be there with her now, she should have tried harder to convince Rotti to let her go --

\-- No, she knew it was absolutely pointless to think that. Rotti hated Marni; he'd never allow Mag to do anything that might make Marni happy.

"How are you?" She asked Marni five nights later, sitting on the bed in her hotel room, the news, muted, on television. "Nathan tells me you're feeling better."

"Yeah, I am," Marni said, and she sounded cheerier than before. "Well, better than I was feeling anyway." She coughed. "I'm still not up for running a marathon, though."

"Well, you just rest" Mag told her gently. "You're going home today; it'll be good for you. And I'll be home soon, in three day's time. I won't leave your side once I'm there."

Marni laughed weakly. "You need to take care of yourself too, Mag. If you got sick, then what would we do? We'd probably give Nathan heart failure. I'm kidding, I'm kidding Nathan," she said, turning away from the phone. "He's still all anxious," Marni said, speaking back into the phone. "I keep telling him that I'm going to be fine, but he won't relax."

"Well, I know how he feels," Mag said, glancing up quickly at the television as the weather forecast came on. "I mean, I'm really worried about you too, Marni. You haven't been sick in, oh damn, it's been ages. And, you know, it's not just you I'm worried about, but Shilo too."

"She's strong," Marni said. "I can feel it. And anyway, you know the doctors said she was fine."

"I know, I know," Mag said. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. It's just, you worry too much, Mag. Have some faith."

"You know I don't have any of that. Besides, you don't worry enough, so I have to do enough for the both of us."

Marni chuckled. "I think Nathan worries enough for all three of us. But, really. I _am_ going to be fine. But I'm kind of tired now, so, I'm going to go. Will I be able to talk to you later?"

"I'll call you at the first opportunity I have. Feel better, okay?"

"Only for you," Marni teased.

The next few days seemed to drag on for forever. Mag was certain that the days had somehow gotten longer. She couldn't focus on anything but Marni and Shilo and getting home, and though she tried to put it all aside at night when she had to go on stage, she knew it was affecting her performances somewhat. She felt awful about it, guilty for caring, especially when she knew that everyone else was counting on her to do her best.

When Sunday finally arrived, she was completely on edge.

The moment she was able, she drove to the airport and got on a plane to head back home to Los Angeles. She should have really been leaving with the rest of her group, but she didn't see the point in waiting. After all, they'd finished the tour; it wasn't as if they had any more use for her right now. Besides, she wouldn't have been able to sit still if she'd had to wait the extra four hours; her nerves would have been completely shot.

Once she was back, some odd hours later, the first thing she did was flag down a taxi and ride over to Marni and Nathan's house. She probably could have called Nathan, she thought, as she watched the city fly by through the windows, except she didn't really want to take him away from the house. She smiled, imagining how he had probably looked for the past few days, jittery and pale and tired; she imagined herself to look the same way.

If it wasn't so tragic, she thought it would actually be rather amusing.

Marni was sitting up in bed when Mag entered her bedroom, having dropped off her begs by the front door when Nathan had let her in. Marni smiled when she saw her and said simply, "Hey Mag."

"Marni," Mag sighed, embracing her tightly.

Marni smiled and kissed her cheek and said, "I missed you.."

"I missed you too."

"You have to tell me all about your tour. How was it?"

"It was . . . good," Mag said, sitting down at the end of the bed. "But, forget about all that; we can talk about it later. How _are_ you?"

"I'm fine," Marni said. "Well, perhaps fine is a _bit_ of an understatement, but I really am feeling much better. Nathan said I'll probably still be feeling a bit sick for a few more days or so. He said that's normal."

"I wish I could have been there for you, in the hospital," Mag said glumly, looking down, fingers playing with the edge of the sheet.

"I know," Marni put her hand on Mag's, stilling her fingers. "But you're here now, and that's what counts. Besides, I looked awful when I was in there. Absolutely hideous. You wouldn't have wanted to see me."

Mag managed a thin smile. "That's not true."

"I know. You always manage to find a way to prove me wrong." She shifted, pushing herself up into a more comfortable position. "Come sit next to me?" She asked hopefully. "I promise that I won't get me sick."

"You know you have no control over that," Mag said, but she smiled and moved around to the other side of the bed, reclining beside Marni. "Besides, I wouldn't mind if I got sick, so long as it meant you'd get better."

"You're sweet, Mag," Marni said quietly.

Mag found Marni's hand; she rested her own on it silently.

"You really do need to get better, Marni," Mag said, after a little while. "I mean, if only for Nathan's sake. He looks like he hasn't slept in days. He's absolutely sick with worry."

Marni gave her another smile. "Well, you know how Nathan is. He'd be like this even if I had a paper cut."

Mag grinned at that. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

Marni said, rather suddenly, "Mag, if anything were to happen, you'd watch over Shilo, wouldn't you? If I wasn't there, would you take care of her? Would you still be a part of her life?"

"Why are you saying all of this?" Mag asked, her heart leaping to her throat, suddenly feeling panicky. "Marni, what -- I mean, of course, of course I would be, but don't, don't say such things. You're always going to be here."

"Maybe," Marni said, meeting her eyes. "But I just want to make sure. Just in case. Would you promise me?"

"Yes, yes. I promise. You know I'd do anything for you, Marni."

Marni sighed. "I know."

Mag put her hand on Marni's face, cupped her cheek in her palm. "I love you so much. In all my life, I've never loved anyone but you."

"Don't say that, Maggie," Marni said, putting her hand on Mag's and closing her eyes.

"I'm just saying what's true," Mag said.

She put her lips against Marni's, gently, their lips just barely meeting in the space between them. And then Marni was sighing again and deepening the kiss, her hand leaving Mag's so that she could run her fingers through Mag's hair. Marni's lips were dry and cracked against hers, and Mag was thinking about was how highly improper this all was, kissing Marni on the bed she shared with her husband, while he was downstairs. But it didn't change how it made her feel, didn't change the fact that when they broke apart Mag wished they hadn't, hoped that maybe Marni felt the same, even though she knew she'd never be able to tell.

"Oh, Mag, I love you," Marni said, whispered it in her ear breathlessly, and Mag was almost certain that she had imagined it. But then Marni said it again, her breath hot on her ear, and Mag wanted to cry, so she just cupped Marni's face in her hands and kissed her again.

"I'll be back tomorrow," she told Marni, later, when she was leaving.

"Good," Marni said. "I can't wait."

 

\- - -

 

"Let's go to the beach," Marni said.

"What?" Mag asked, surprised. "Marni, it's eleven o'clock at night. Why do you want to go to the beach _now_?"

"I've never been to the beach at night," Marni said, as if that suddenly explained everything.

"I don't know," Mag said. "I still have a lot of work to do. And I'm kind of tired. Also, don't you have a midterm tomorrow afternoon?"

"So what?" Marni said, and Mag felt her lean over the couch and kiss her on the top of the head. "Besides, you have plenty of time to get all your work done; it isn't even due until next week. And also, you and I both have late classes, so we can sleep in. Come on, Mag, it'll be fun."

"You do realize that your idea of fun often is wildly different from the considered norm, right?" Mag said, only half-serious. "But if you really want to go, well, I guess I'll come with you then. Not like you would give me any choice in the matter, regardless."

"I'll get our stuff then," Marni said cheerfully.

Mag set her book down on the coffee table and pushed herself up, drawing her fingers along the edge of the couch as she walked into the bedroom where Marni was furiously going through her drawers.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't find my bathing suit," Marni said, irritated. "I _know_ I brought it with me, too, I just don't know where I put it."

"So go without."

Marni paused. And then, "You mean, you think I should go naked?"

"No, not _naked_ ," Mag said, rolling her eyes with a laugh. "The water will be too cold for that. Just, wear some shorts and a t-shirt or something. I mean, who really needs a bathing suit anywhere? Clothes work just as well for the beach. Or, I mean, whatever, I guess you could just wear your underwear. That's pretty much what your bikini is like anyway. Then again, your underwear may actually cover more."

"I'm hurt, Mag," Marni said, though she didn't sound it at all. "You think my clothing is too skimpy?"

"Just your bikini. Which doesn't actually count as clothing."

Mag heard Marni close the drawer.

"You're probably right anyway," Marni said. "After all, it's late. It's not like there's going to be anyone there to see us. I'll just go in a tank top and shorts. You should probably change too."

"I don't plan on going in the water," Marni clarified. "I'm just going to tag along with you. I'll sit on the shore, thank you very much."

Marni giggled. "You don't like the water?"

"I like the water just fine, I just don't feel like swimming at eleven o'clock at night."

"Well, fine then," Marni said good-naturedly. "But at least walk along the edge of the water with me. It'll be very pretty, I'm sure; I'll describe everything to you."

Mag shrugged and sat down on the edge of Marni's bed. "Sure."

She could smell the salt water two miles from the beach. The air was thick with it, the smell of salt and sand and Mag breathed in deeply, savoring it. If there was one thing she liked best about the beach, it was the smell. There was something comforting to it, but exciting as well; it made her think of adventure.

She said to Marni, "What do you plan on doing when you get out of college?"

"Probably working on getting a graduate degree," Marni said, and Mag felt her shift gears. Marni had insisted on buying a manual car. "Why? What about you?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Well, you have a lot of options," Marni said, sounding very business-like. "You could teach, you know, become a vocal coach. You could become a solo artist, make tons of CDs and travel the world. Or you could just an orchestra, work with them. And I'm sure there are other things you could do too, but I just can't think of them off the top of my head."

"I think it's a little far-fetched to say I'd be that successful as a solo artist. But thank you for the optimism."

"I'm totally serious, though," Marni said. "It _is_ possible. You know how opera's starting to become popular now."

"Oh, right, _that_ ," Mag said, frowning. "The Genetic Opera. Put on by that company, I forget the name --"

"--GeneCo."

"Ah, yeah. GeneCo. They wouldn't know a real opera if it fell through the ceiling of the opera house. Honestly, it's no good at all. Hardly what anyone would consider to be real opera anyway."

"But at least it's popular again," Marni told her. "Which means that I'm right, you _could_ become really famous."

"You should write a book," Mag said, as they pulled into the parking lot.

"Yeah?"

"You're an excellent writer, and you're very creative. Or short stories, you could write those two. If anyone deserves to be famous, it's you, not me."

Marni laughed and turned off the engine. Mag heard the keys jingle as she stuffed them into her pocket, heard the click of the door as Marni unlocked it and pushed it open. She reached for her door handle, letting the door swing out. As she climbed out of the car, Marni was saying, "God, Mag, isn't absolutely gorgeous out tonight."

"Tell me," Mag said.

"The sky's all clear and the stars are very bright tonight," Marni said. "And it's low tide, so the water's all the way down the beach. The moon's nearly full and hanging very low in the sky. The light's reflecting off of the water and making it glow. It looks amazing."

She suddenly appeared at Mag's side, putting a hand on her arm. "Come on, let's go down to the waves."

Mag slid her arm around to Marni's elbow, let it rest there lightly. "Alright, if we must."

"The stones are still wet from the water here," Marni said, as they got further down the beach. "The moonlight's making them all shiny. Also, I'm taking off my shoes, because I want to wade." She stopped and Mag pulled her hand away, as Marni bent down to pick up her sandals.

Marni said, "Want to kick off your flip-flops, Mag? I'll carry them for you."

"Uh, sure," Mag said, and did as she was instructed.

The sand was damp beneath her feet; she felt the graininess of it between her toes. She grinned.

At the water's edge, she hesitated. "Is it cold?" She asked Marni, who has wandered a few feet ahead of her.

"Not particularly," Marni said. "Well, I mean it is colder than usual seeing that it's November, but it's not _cold_ cold, it's more like, lukewarm. Er, actually, a little colder than luke warm. But we're only wading, so."

Mag ventured forward, felt the waves lap at her feet as she entered the water slowly. She felt the waves splash around her toes, then around her ankles When she was in up to about her mid-calves, she called for Marni.

"I'm here, I'm here," Marni said, and Mag heard the splashing as she moved towards her, felt Marni's hand on her arm.

"This feels really weird for some reason," Mag said.

"I know."

"I've never done this before."

"Me neither. But I'm glad we did it, just so we can say now that we did. And it's such a pretty night, too. You usually can't see so many stars now a days."

"I wish I could see them," Mag said, turning to her. "They sound beautiful."

Marni sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, they are."

"Do you think that one day I'll be able to see?" Mag asked her, after a moment. "Do you think maybe somehow it'll be possible someday?"

"Of course," Marni said, pulling her in, wrapping her arms around Mag's waist. "I promise that one day I'll be able to show you how the world really looks."

Mag rested her head on Marni's shoulder, put her arms around Marni and held onto her tightly. She could hear Marni's heart, beating wildly in her chest, felt her own pulse racing. She turned her head up towards Marni; Marni kissed her forehead, once, twice. Marni put two fingers under Mag's chin, lifted it up.

"Mag, Mag," Marni whispered. "I can see the stars in your eyes."

"Really?" Mag asked, and the moment seemed surreal.

"They're beautiful," Marni said in awe. "You're beautiful."

Mag kissed her then, their noses bumping against one another, lips meeting awkwardly. Marni tasted like the salt air and her vanilla flavored lip gloss. When she pulled away, Marni pressed her cheek against Mag's, kissed her ear.

They sat on the beach, up higher, where the sand was cool and dry. Mag sat with her knees up against her chest, arms looped lazily around them. Marni, beside her, was leaning back on her hands, legs splayed out in front of her. Marni sighed and rested her head on Mag's shoulder. After a time, she pushed herself up, sat beside Mag, her still on Mag's shoulder, as she drew her fingers up and down Mag's arm, her touch feather-light, moving in long, curved strokes, as if she was writing lines of poetry on Mag's skin. Mag smiled and sighed and rested her head upon Marni's own. And the wind came and played with their hair, and Marni giggled as Mag's hair tickled her nose.

"I wish I could take a picture of this right now," Marni said, in a quiet voice, much later. "Of us, as we are at this very moment. And then I could take it out and look at it whenever I wanted to, and recall every bit of this moment." She paused, reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind Mag's ear. "And then someday I'd be able to show it to you, and we'd both be able to remember this moment exactly."

She put her hand against Mag's cheek, her thumb brushing against Mag's ear, as she pulled her in gently, slowly, and kissed her. Mag reached out with one of her hands, caught Marni's fingers on her arm and ran her thumb across her knuckles. When they broke apart, Mag took Marni's hand and brought it to her mouth, kissing her palm, her wrist, and the tips of her fingers, one by one by one.

"I love you," she whispered in Marni's ear, and this was the first time she'd said it since in July, when they'd made love for the first time and Mag had said it without thinking, only reacting. And though she'd been scared to say it before, now she didn't have any problem saying it. Now she wanted to say it all the time, wanted to stand up and shout it to the night sky.

She wasn't afraid any longer.

Marni didn't say anything, just kissed her again. She laid back down on the sand and pulled Mag down with her; Mag fell on top of her, heart racing as their bodies pressed together. Marni pulled her head down, kissed her fiercely. With her fingers running though Mag's hair, and one of Marni's leg wrapped loosely around her, she couldn't think at all, just kept on kissing Mag until she ran out of breath and she pulled away, gasping.

They made love in the back of Marni's car, a green Toyota with leather seats, the windows halfway down in the front so that they could hear the sound of the waves crashing in the distance. Marni gasped and clutched Mag to her, as Mag drew her tongue down the length of Marni's stomach and her fingers moved in lazy circles on her thigh. Marni grabbed Mag, pulled her up to kiss her, moaning, as Mag's hand slipped between her legs.

Later, Mag would groan and clutch the edge of the seat, as Marni's tongue would circle around her nipple lazily, before she chuckled low in her throat and took it into her mouth, sucking slowly. And all the while her fingers would be on Mag, moving in agonizingly light strokes, until Mag couldn't stand it any longer and begged for more.

Afterwards, Marni rested on top of Mag, sweaty and exhausted, breathing still labored.

"I'm so glad you made me come to the beach with you," Mag chuckled, stroking Marni's hair soothingly.

With a small laugh, Marni leaned up and kissed her; Mag could feel her grinning into the kiss.

After a time, Mag said, "We should probably be heading home soon, yeah? What time is it?"

Marni consulted the clock on the radio, the digital numbers glowing emerald green in the semi-darkness of the car. "It's past midnight," she said. "So, yeah, I suppose we should go home now. The thing is," she said, lying her head back down on Mag's chest, "I don't really want to. I just want to stay like this forever."

Mag said, "What's this, Marni Thompson is being sentimental?"

Marni laughed softly. "Yeah, I suppose I am."

 

 

\- - -

 

When Marni got married, she moved out of the apartment that she and Mag had shared, so Mag got it by default. It looked so empty without Marni's things in it, Mag thought, somewhat sadly. They'd moved the two double beds out of the master bedroom and replaced it with just one, queen size one. With its white cotton sheets and down comforter, Mag felt like she could drown when she climbed into bed at night. She'd never had any sleeping problems before -- which was unusual, she thought, because blind people usually had them, though she'd probably just not suffered from any because she'd mimicked Marni's sleep patterns -- but now she did.

She contributed that to the fact that she had to sleep alone at night now. Even when they slept in separate beds, at least she knew that Marni was there beside her, would be able to hear even, shallow breathing. But now there was just silence, all around her. Sometimes Mag felt like she was being suffocated by it.

Everything seemed very different, now that she and Marni were no longer living together.

She'd always depended on Marni -- well, not so much in the last year or so, but for the better part of her life, yes -- and she still felt that need to depend on her. She knew that it was terribly unhealthy, but at the same time, she felt that she couldn't really help it. It was like a force of habit now.

If she'd wanted to be completely selfish, she would have visited every day. And if Marni had had her way, she probably would be doing just that. But Mag had decided that she couldn't spend every waking moment with Marni -- it simply wouldn't be fair to Nathan -- and had told Marni exactly that. Marni, of course, had insisted that it would be okay if she came over every evening, if she wanted to, that it really wasn't a problem. But Mag had been firm and said that no, she would space out her visits (but that she would probably still call every night, if that was okay).

"We have to meet for lunch, too," Marni told her. "At least once a week. Maybe twice. Possibly three times, if we can make it work."

Mag chuckled. "Yes, sure, of course. And I'll try and come over every few days. Is . . . is that okay?"

"Obviously," Marni said. "Any less and _I'd_ be driving there to visit _you_. Which I will be doing, mind you."

"I wouldn't expect any less from you."

"What can I say? You _are_ my best friend."

"And you know you're mine. And more." Mag said, hesitating before she added the last part.

"You know I feel the same." Marni said, and it made Mag smile.

 

A week later they ate lunch in the cafeteria of Marni's office building. Marni had protested that they could go out anywhere, really, it was no big deal, but Mag had insisted, stating that Marni's office was close to the studio where she was recording her new CD for GeneCo, and thus it would be easier to just stay here.  
  
"So," Mag said, as Marni drowned her salad in Italian dressing. "How is married life?"  
  
"Surprisingly, or perhaps, un-surprisingly, it is not all that different from non-married life. At least, I haven't noticed any difference yet."  
  
"I can't wait to see you at Christmas next year," Mag said, buttering her roll. "You'll probably send me one of those cards where there's a picture of you two on front -- you know the kind? -- and Shilo in the middle. It'll be adorable."  
  
"But so predictable," Marni said. She grinned and said, "Which, of course, is exactly why that will be what will happen. I'm sure Nathan will insist on it."  
  
"He would do that sort of thing," Mag agreed with a laugh. "I'm sure he'd take it very seriously too."  
  
"He's probably already picked out his outfit," Marni said, grinning widely. "That's one of the things I love about him, Mag. He takes these kind of things so seriously, puts so much effort and meaning into them."  
  
Mag cocked her head thoughtfully. "You know, I can really see it."  
  
"See what?"  
  
"That you love him," Mag said. "I can hear it in your tone of voice, the way your voice softens a bit, and the way you sort of sigh at the end of each sentence. It's very telling. And you never used to be like that when you were talking about Rotti. So I know that it's different with Nathan."  
  
Marni smiled at her.  
  
"I know that I was probably, well," Mag hesitated. "Rather disagreeable. When it came to you and Nathan at first. I thought . . . well, that's not important. But, what I mean is. Well, what I'm trying to say . . ."  
  
"I get it," Marni said. "What you're saying. And there's no need for you to apologize. I admit, some of my choices were rather, uh, sudden. So it's not your fault; you just wanted to make sure that I would be okay."  
  
Mag flushed. "Well, as long as everything's all right between us then."  
  
Marni waved her hand dismissively. "We've been doing all right, haven't we? We fought maybe once or twice, but that's to be expected. I mean, we  _have_  been friends for years. I think I'd be more worried if we'd never quarreled."  
  
"Well, I'd prefer we didn't."  
  
"Same. But I'm just saying, you know, it's all right."  
  
Mag beamed at her. "So how is work going?" She asked, changing the subject.  
  
Marni raised her eyebrows and swallowed her mouthful of salad. "Eh, things are going okay, I guess. I'm the executive editor now, you know, so I have a lot going on. It keeps me busy, but frankly, I don't find it terribly interesting."  
  
"Did you ever?"  
  
Marni shrugged. "You know, I don't think so. I mean, I'm good at it -- at least, I think I am -- but I've never found the subject to be interesting at all. It's just, oh, something to do I guess. It's not like I could do anything else anyway."  
  
"That's not true," Mag protested. "I'm sure you could do whatever you wanted, if you set your mind to it."  
  
"That's just the problem," Marni said. "I just don't have any desire to work for anything."  
  
Mag raised an eyebrow. "Ah, well,  _that's_  a first. Marni Wallace has no desire to change."  
  
Marni laughed and kicked her playfully under the table. "I've come to learn that change is not always a good thing," she said.  
  
Mag grinned. "Another first. It's almost like I don't even know you," she teased.  
  
"Oh, shut up," Marni said good-naturedly. "I'm still the same girl you knew way back in middle school."  
  
"Yeah," Mag said quietly. "Yeah, you are."  
  


\- - -

  
  
  
"We should go to the dance," Marni said.  
  
"Well, that's unexpected," Mag said, from Marni's desk. "You hate social events, especially ones run by our school. And dances. You  _hate_  dances. Why the sudden desire to go to one now?"  
  
"I don't know," Marni said thoughtfully, and Mag heard her close her book. "I just do."  
  
"Well, I don't want to go," Mag said.   
  
"Don't be disagreeable."  
  
"I'm not I just. Don't want to go. If you want to go, go."  
  
"I'm not going to go without you," Marni said. Mag heard the bed shift and supposed she was lying down. "Otherwise I'll just stand around by myself and be bored to tears."  
  
"You'd feel that way regardless," Mag said, setting down her pencil and marking her place in her book with it. "But I'm serious. If you want to go, then go. You  _can_  do whatever you want, Marni."  
  
"I know, I know," Marni sighed. "I just. I feel like we should be involved with school, somehow."  
  
"And you've come to the conclusion that going to the spring formal is the way to do it?"  
  
"Sorta. I mean, ugh," Marni sighed again. "I don't know. I feel like we're just going through the motions, you know? We should be living the whole, I don't know, living the whole 'high school experience' or whatever."  
  
Mag got up and joined Marni on the bed, climbing onto it and lying down beside her.  
  
"If you really want to go," she started, after a moment.  
  
"Then I'll just go, I know, I know," Marni said.  
  
"I'll go with you," Mag finished.  
  
Marni was quiet for a bit. Mag closed her eyes, let her fingers search out Marni's until their they met and intertwined, palms pressed flat against one another. They lie like that for a while; Marni wasn't sure how much time had passed for Marni spoke again.  
  
"You'll really go with me?"  
  
Mag shrugged. "Sure. Why not. I mean, I know we'll probably just stand around looking like complete idiots and be bored out of our minds. But I'll go, if you want me to. Uh, if you want go now, still."  
  
"You don't need to do it to make me happy," Marni told her gently, brushing the hair out of her eyes.   
  
"I'm not," Mag said. Then, pausing, she added, "Okay, I mean. Maybe I sorta am. But I wouldn't be going unless you were going as well. Social situations are really, well, not my thing."  
  
"They're not my thing either," Marni chuckled lightly, rolling over onto her side; Mag could feel Marni's breath on her neck. "We can be socially awkward together."  
  
Mag smiled. "I think I can handle that."  
  
  
"I don't know how to dance, though," Mag told Marni the next day at lunch.   
  
"It's not that hard," Marni said, through a mouthful of pizza. "No one does any traditional sort of dancing anymore -- which, uh, you don't know what that looks like anyway -- it's all very simple now. Sort of like, just holding someone against you and grinding against them. It's uh. Called grinding. Obviously."  
  
"I got that, thanks," Mag said with a grin.   
  
"Well, I can, uh. Teach you," Marni offered, flushing. "If you want."  
  
"Uh, sure," Mag said. "My house, tomorrow afternoon?"  
  
"Sure," Marni took a sip from her bottle of water. Then, "Hey, why tomorrow? Do you have something going on tonight?"  
  
"Just a rehearsal," Mag told her, crumbling up her trash and depositing it in her brown paper bag. "I have a recital coming up in two weeks, so."  
  
"Oh, nice," Marni said. "Where is it?"  
  
"San Diego, actually," Mag said. "It's a competition sort of thing. My group's actually been practicing for it for a while now. But, uh, yeah, because it's so close to the competition, we're working triple rehearsals now. But like I said, I'm free tomorrow, so you can come over then."  
  
"Alright, sure, that works out fine for me," Marni said.  
  
"I've got to get to class," Mag said, after a few minutes had gone by.   
  
"Yeah, actually, um, me too," Marni said, and when Mag stood, she felt Marni beside her.  
  
"Here, let me," Marni said, plucking her bag of trash from her hand.  
  
Mag said, "You don't need to do that. Treat me like an invalid. I can do some things on my own, you know."  
  
Mag heard Marni laugh. "I know, it's just, I like doing nice things for you."  
  
When they got to Mag's classroom -- Marni always walked Mag to class, even if her class was at the opposite end of the hall and it meant she was going to be late. Mag had tried to tell her that it was alright, that she could manage on her own, but Marni had just ignored her weak protests, saying that she liked to walk to class with Mag, and besides, she didn't mind being late for class. After all, Marni said, it wasn't as if she was in a big rush to get there anyway.  
  
"So I'll see you tomorrow then?" Marni asked, as they stood near the doorway. "Or do you need a ride home?"  
  
Mag shook her head. "No, my aunt's actually picking me up today."  
  
"Tomorrow it is then."  
  
"Yes, tomorrow." Mag grinned. "Have fun at class."  
  
"Oh, you know me," Marni said. "I always do."  
  
  
  
"So, I'm going to teach you how to just do a basic slow dance type . . . thing. It's really easy and to be quite honest, I would feel a little uncomfortable grinding with you. Not that that means anything!" She added quickly. "It's just that, well, I wouldn't feel comfortable doing it with anyone. Frankly, I don't understand why anyone would want to actually do that, you look ridiculous and --"  
  
"It's okay, it's okay!" Mag laughed, cutting her off. "It's really okay, Marni. I'm not taking offense or anything."  
  
"Well, alright then," Marni said, in a much more relaxed tone. "So, then. We should get started."  
  
"Should we . . . I don't know, put on some music or something."  
  
"Um," Marni hesitated. "Yeah, actually, good idea. It will be hard to do this without a beat."  
  
"You can just plug your iPod into my speakers," Mag said helpfully, and she heard the rustling of clothing as Marni extracted her own iPod from her pocket and the faint click as she plugged it in.  
  
"I, uh, have some slow songs," Marni said. There was a pause and then there was music drifting out of the speakers, slow and smooth. It was a male voice and the song sounded pretty, but Mag wasn't really listening to it right now, not when Marni came up in front of her and took her hand.  
  
"Well, um. I suppose I'll show you how to do it, then."  
  
"I'm going to look ridiculous."  
  
"You are not. Just relax. It's easy," Marni said quietly, in her ear. "Look, it's just your basic slow type dance, alright? Here just, put your hand on my, uh, hip -- or, uh, actually, this will be easier, just, uh, put your arms around my neck, and I'll put my hands on your hips."  
  
Mag did as she was instructed.  
  
"And then we sort of just, you know, sway back and forth, and well, you get the idea."  
  
"Like -- like this?" Mag asked uncertainly, feeling utterly ridiculous.   
  
"Yeah, just like that," Marni said quietly. Mag felt Marni's hand creep to the small of her back, holding her steady. "Just, um. Sorta lean into me. That'll help."  
  
"Oh," Mag said quietly, and suddenly their bodies were very close together.  
  
She felt Marni's other hand shift awkwardly from her hip to her back, so that the two were joined., heard Marni's nervous chuckle as she said, "Well, yeah, it's just like that. See, you're doing it perfectly."  
  
"It's very nice," Mag said, feeling rather light-headed. "I've never done it before."  
  
The room felt hot and stuffy, like the walls were pressing in on them. It seemed to Mag as if they were spinning in circles and she was suddenly dizzy and nearly wanted to stop. She felt like she was drowning and she held onto Marni tighter, struggling to breathe again. She thought of them slow dancing in a burning room, the very image of them doing so plucked from the title some song she remembered hearing a long time ago. It was more poetic than she usually cared for, but it seemed right, just then, to think of it like that.  
  
It felt like forever, until Marni finally broke the silence.  
  
"I guess you've picked it up then," she said quietly.  
  
"Yeah." Mag said and she found herself wondering about the proximity from Marni's lips to hers, and what Marni was thinking right now, if she was thinking that she wanted to make this moment go on for forever.   
  
"I should probably get going," Marni said. "It's late."  
  
"I wish you could stay," Mag said. She put her head on Marni's shoulder.  
  
"I know," Marni said, after a moment. "So do I. Someday I'll be able to stay and not have to leave."  
  
Mag smiled and said to her, "Yeah. Someday."  
  


\- - -

  
  
  
Sometimes she couldn't bear the silence of night.   
  
"I miss you," she said into the night, feeling nearly crazy. "All the time."  
  
She bit her lip, stared up at the ceiling. Marni didn't answer; Mag didn't expect her to.  
  
"I loved you so much, Marni. I still do. It's like this big gaping hole, right in my chest. And I can't make it go away. I can't fix it." She squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried to picture Marni's face. She should have been able too, she  _should_. She knew what Marni looked like, knew how her dark hair felt between her fingers, smooth and silky, and how it always smelled like the strawberry-kiwi conditioner she used. She remembered Marni eyes, chestnut, or hazel, or sometimes just a soft brown color; always with flecks of grey-green in them, always. Mag's hands remembered the way Marni's skin felt beneath her fingertips, how she arched at her touch. But she couldn't put it all together, couldn't see Marni,  _whole_ , in her mind.   
  
She was so desperate just to see her, even if it was just imagined.  
  
Without a word, Mag slipped her hand between her thighs, rubbed in quick, purposeful strokes, face turned into her pillow, muffling her moans. She felt pathetic, but she couldn't make herself stop her hand until she finally came, biting down on her lip so hard she could taste blood, thin and coppery and  _real_ , inside her mouth. When she finally managed to catch her breath, she withdrew her hand, wiped her fingers on the sheets.  
  
She felt like crying.  
  
  
  
To be honest, Mag can't really remember much of anything, back before she knew Marni.   
  
She remembers that she mostly kept to herself, that she knew some people in her classes, and people were friendly to her, in that awkward, unsure kind of way that Mag hated. (Thought she couldn't blame them for it too much.) And her life was mostly filled with music; recitals and practice and traveling to competitions. She thinks that her parents must have started her on lessons when she was very young, though she's a little fuzzy on the exact age. Maybe she was five years old. Or six. Either way, that's really the only thing she remembers doing.  
  
She can't remember her parents.  
  
She's sure that at some point she had a picture of them -- a lot of good it would have done her, she thinks bitterly. But she must have kept one, just for sentimental reasons. Or maybe it was her aunt, her mother's sister, who had had one; she can't remember. Mag hadn't seen her aunt and uncle in ages, didn't even know what her cousins were doing, if they were even alive. She thought that this should probably make her sad, but it didn't.  
  
Not surprisingly, Mag can't remember them at all. There's nothing in her memory about them, no smells, no specific feeling; she can't even remember the way their voices sounded. In her mind, they seem to not even exist, just shadows of things she once used to know. But she can remember her, parents, sometimes; memories will come bubbling up to the surface and she'll have the strangest sense of déjà vu , and she'll realize: I remember this. I remember doing something like this, touching something like this, feeling it, smelling it. There aren't any visual clues; it makes her feel blind again.  
  
And then there are times when she's certain she's just making things up, that her brain's simply trying to fill in the blank spots. She can't possibly remember that it was cloudy out on her twelfth birthday and her mother's face was flushed from the cold wind, just as she can't remember how Marni must have looked at the beach, coming out of the ocean, water dripping from her hair, running down her tanned arms. Her mind's simply trying to make things easier for her, though sometimes it gives her headaches to think about it.  
  
That summer, she turned forty-one years old.  
  
It was hard to believe how seventeen years had seemed to just come and go. Every day seemed to drag on, every hour seemed like it would never end. Weeks lasted for eternities and months seemed impossibly long. But the truth was, it had been seventeen years. Seventeen years ago, Marni was still alive. Seventeen years ago, Mag remembered, they sat on a park bench and held hands, making all sorts of grandiose plans for the future. Their future. Shilo's future. Seventeen years ago Mag left Marni lying in bed on her wedding day; Marni, with her hair tangled and her face flushed, lay sprawled out on the bed, smiling in her sleep.  
  
Mag could recall every detail, every crease and fold in the sheets, the way Marni's hair spilled about her shoulders, stark against the cream-colored pillowcase. She remembered re-setting the alarm for Marni, so she would wake up on time, remembered brushing the hair out of her eyes. Sunlight was pouring through the open curtains of the bedroom window, but Mag hadn't wanted to close them; Marni looked too pretty in the golden light of morning.   
  
Back then, she was only twenty-four -- they both were, and only just beginning their lives.  
  
She'd looked at the world so differently then, had caught on to Marni's youthful optimism. Now, she thought sadly, she was hardened, cynical. She wished that Marni were here. Marni always knew what to say to make her feel better; Marni would have kissed her until she smiled, and then kissed her some more. Marni had been her light, her soul, her everything. Without her, Mag just felt empty inside.  
  
She hoped that Marni knew, that when she died, she knew how much Mag had cared for her, how much she had loved her. Sometimes she thought, maybe I didn't show it enough, maybe I spoke in the places where I should been silent, and was silent in the places where I should have spoken. But no, her heart would say, she'd told Marni she'd loved her in every way possible, had  _shown_  her every way possible. And Marni would have known.  
  
Well, she must have.  
  
  
  
Very soon, she realized, she is probably going to die.  
  
It wasn't as if she was unprepared for it. She had accepted this fact a long time ago; she knew what happened if she breaks her contract with GeneCo: her corneas and her retinas will go into default and be slated for repossession. (Not the chip in her brain, though, no, that'd be of no use to them once it'd been retrieved; she gets to keep that.) And though the Repo Man would only come for her eyes, she also knew that he is not exactly concerned about the lives of those with defaulted GeneCo property. He would probably slit her throat -- in a weak, pitiful way to keep her from feeling much of any kind of pain afterwards -- and while she bled out into the cement in some back alley he'd blind her.  
  
It's not the death part that she doesn't like, really, she just doesn't like the fact that she'll be killed over nothing, just a stupid pair of digital corneas which will be out of date anyway in two, three years tops. It just seems very stupid and selfish and pointless, although she knows that getting angry about it won't change anything. She knew all about this a long time ago and she's come to accept it. Being angry and resentful only wore her out and besides, Marni wouldn't have wanted her to live like that. She hoped that Marni in some way, understood why she was doing what she is; she told herself Marni probably did -- or would, at least; Mag's not sure which would be more correct. Marni would have told her to follow her heart, that it would always be better to die free than to waste your entire life being chained down.  
  
(At least she thought Marni would have, anyway.)  
  
She wasn't sure if she was afraid of death or not. She hadn't decided yet.  
  
She thought that she would like to make peace with Nathan before she does die. It seemed almost absurd to her that she hadn't seen him in almost fifteen years. She looked for him, tried to find him in the city, but she didn't seem to be able. Once or twice she considered actually going to his house, seeking him out there, but propriety always got the best of her; he had turned her out once already, he obviously didn't want her there, and she didn't want to be forceful.  
  
There were times when Mag daydreamed, when she imagined what life would still be like if Marni was alive, if her goddaughter had survived. She could picture the three of them, her and Marni and Nathan, sitting in the living room, watching Shilo playing (or reading, Mag thinks that she probably would have been just like Marni) on the floor. Mag could see herself ,reclining on a high-backed chair, while Marni and Nathan sat on the couch, and Marni leaned contentedly against Nathan, his arm wrapped loosely around her shoulder.  
  
Marni would say, "You're staying for dinner, right Mag?"  
  
And Mag would hesitate and say that she wasn't sure and that she should really be getting back home.  
  
Shilo would stand then, come tug on her skirt and look up with her with adorable brown eyes, beg her to stay, and Mag would smile and tell her, yes, of course she would love to stay.  
  
She imagined all of this and realized that it will never happen, that all the hopes and dreams she'd had for Shilo, for Marni, for  _herself_ , were all gone now. She'd never have a goddaughter to take on walks through the park near her apartment, never would be able to sit beside Marni and hold her hand, kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear how much she loved her, like she used to, when it was just the two of them together. Sometimes it seemed like this was all a dream, that one day she would wake up and discover that her dream world was reality all along. She felt like she was just sleepwalking through this life; eating and sleeping and singing, but still just going through the motions, never really living.  
  
It shouldn't have been like this. They should have been allowed to be happy.  
  
But there was no point in thinking of such things, of daydreaming of all that could have been. It only made her feel worse, made her stomach sick and her head ache, and she'd wake up in the morning feeling like she'd spent the night downing a whole bottle of vodka all on her own. Most of the time she just tuned out, just went through her day and didn't let any of it touch her, just kept herself detached from it all.  
  
Nathan would say that she wasn't coping well, that she didn't to talk to someone.  
  
And Nathan would have been a goddamn hypocrite, he always was. Even now, he's shut himself away completely away from the rest of the world. Mag would talk to someone, if she could. But the truth is, the only person she wanted to talk to was Nathan -- he would be the only one who would understand, and not just say he understood, just to make her feel better; at least you could always tell that Nathan was being sincere when he said things -- but he didn't want to talk. So he was wallowing in his own sorrow, and so was she, dragged down into it like it was quicksand and she couldn't climb out.  
  
"Marni, I need you," she pleaded into the darkness. "Marni, come back to me."  
  
But Marni didn't come back, even though she'd always promised she would.  
  
She said that they would be together always.  
  
  
  
She has never gotten used to this, the way the streets of Los Angeles have becoming a mad gallery of advertisements for GeneCo; buildings and signs and tents showing off the company's latest product, or deluding the consumers into thinking that if they could have genetic perfection, their lives would be better.  
  
Mag wondered if anyone ever cared about who someone was anymore, wondered if heart and soul and character still had meaning, or if it had all just vanished long ago, when GeneCo turned on the pretty red and yellow lights. She thought to herself that Marni would have disapproved of all this, that Marni would have shook her head and sighed and said that everyone had lost sight of what was important.  
  
(Mag would have agreed with her.)  
  
She stood inside her tent, in an long, shimmery green dress, hair falling around her face, eyes outlined in thick, black make-up, and she thought, this isn't her. When she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she saw herself, but at the same time, it was like looking at a stranger. She felt old and tired and worn out; she remembered that this was her last night, her last performance for GeneCo, and relief washed over her. There would be no more promotions, no more world tours, no more Genetic Opera (for her, at least, and that was what mattered). And after tonight, she herself would probably be no more as well.  
  
The thought was strangely comforting.  
  
When she stepped out of the tent, she ran into the Largo children, much to her dismay.  
  
"Who's going to sing after you're gone?" Amber sneered at her.  
  
Mag said in a demure tone, not wanting to start an argument which she knows will happen anyway. "Amber, please, it's not my place."  
  
"Well, someone will have to sing," Amber said, half-pouting, half-irritated. "Why can't it be me?"  
  
That's when Luigi and Pavi joined and started to argue with her. It's the same argument they've been having for nearly five years now: which one of them will inherit their father's wretched company. Mag wished that they would all just shut up, because she was getting a migraine and she didn't want to spend her last day with GeneCo feeling awful. Being numb was okay; she just didn't want to be aware of just how numb she was.  
  
She rubbed her temple, annoyed.  
  
"Children,  _off_ ," Mag heard Rotti say, and she drew her hand away from her forehead.  
  
"Hello, Mag," he said to her and she muttered a hello. "I have someone for you to meet," he said, and Mag looked as he put her hand on the back of the young girl next to him and pushed her forward gently.  
  
Mag's eyes widened as the girl drew closer, un-believing.  
  
"Mag," Rotti said, "This is Shilo. The daughter of an old friend."  
  
Even if Rotti hadn't introduced them, Mag would have recognized her instantly. She had Marni's long dark hair, her warm, brown eyes. For a moment, Mag was almost certain that it  _was_  Marni, the girl looked almost identical to how her mother did when she was younger. Excepting the nose, which was clearly Nathan's.  
  
Rotti said, almost fondly, "Seeing you two stirs memories."  
  
Mag opened her mouth of speak, but just as she was about to, an announcement came on the intercom directing her to come to the stage immediately. Mag looked quickly at then back at Rotti. There was so much she wanted to say to Shilo, so many things that she wanted to tell her, to . . . to  _show_  her. And it felt like her whole life had been narrowed down to this point, and it could either end here or it could only be the beginning of something new entirely.  
  
So she said, "I -- I have to go."  
  
On stage, in front of the cameras and news cameras and reporters, Mag cut the ribbon symbolizing the opening of GeneCo's newest opera house, which was going to be christened tonight by Mag's last performance. Beside her, Rotti smiled and waved and when reporters asked Mag why she was retiring, she felt his hand gripping her arm roughly. She said that it was simply time to move on, to bigger and better things.  
  
And then Rotti said, "Of course, we're sad to see her go." He put his arm around Mag's shoulders, putting on an act of goodwill between them. "But you're free to leave as you wish, Mag. It's not like we  _own_  you."  
  
Mag hated him.  
  
  
  
She had a plan.  
  
Granted it wasn't a very  _good_  plan and she was fairly certain that when it came down to it, it wouldn't yield the best results. Admittedly, she hadn't put a great deal of thought into this -- well, it wasn't as if she'd been planning this for years, it had mostly just occurred to her earlier, and she thought to herself, yes, this is what I must do. She thought it was a fitting end to a pathetically tragic tale.  
  
In the car, she chewed her lip nervously, played with the black lace edging on the cuff of her sleeve.  
  
The driver, her face heavily covered, kept glancing back at her in the rear view mirror. Sometimes their eyes met; Mag would glance away quickly, turning her attention to the dark, bleak city outside of her window, or looking down at her feet, the creases in her dark velvet dress. She drew her finger along the patterns on her skirt, traced the swirls and knots carefully. She wasn't even sure if Shilo would be there when she arrived; all of these was just a wild guess, as she didn't really know where Shilo had run off to while she and Rotti had been meeting with reporters.  
  
But she knew that home was safe, and that Shilo would probably be there.  
  
She thought, should I really be doing this? She wasn't sure what good this would do, if it would do any good at all. But, she told herself, Shilo deserved to know, at least this, that Mag was her goddaughter. She knows what it's like to not think that you have any family at all; she doesn't want Shilo to feel like that.  
  
And she promised Marni.  
  
In the distance, she saw the house, looming ahead, the one steadfast point in an wasteland.  
  
She was sure for a moment that she was going to lose her nerve. Her hands were shaking and she gripped her hood, pulling it up over her head, trying to calm herself. And then the driver pulled up in front of the gates and she thought to herself, that it was now or never, and if she was going to really do this, she may as well get out of the car.   
  
Only, there was so much that she wanted to say, and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to say it, if anything would come out the way it was supposed to. She wished she could say to Shilo, _My love for your mother was endless_ , wished that she could tell Shilo about the day they first met, about the night they sat on the beach and the stars were in her eyes, or about how on Christmas morning Marni had announced she was pregnant and Nathan and Mag had both hugged her until Marni had pushed them away, laughing. She wanted to share all of this with Shilo, to try and tell her what her mother was like, so long ago.  
  
She would show Shilo that it was possible to believe in things that you could not always see, that sometimes you had to have a little faith that the person guiding you would eventually lead you to where you needed to be. Sometimes you didn't need to see everything; you could just feel it in your heart and know that it was real and true. That was what Marni had taught her.  
  
Behind her, Mag's escort cocked her gun, menacingly. Mag looked back at her in disgust, wishing her guard was not here; it was almost as if she was intruding upon something personal, and it made Mag uncomfortable. She looked at the gate; saw the intercom on the side wall next to it. She hesitated, her finger hovering over the button on the intercom.  
  
She was uncertain of what would happen, of how Shilo would react, of what she would say, if she would say anything at all. She didn't know how things would turn out after this, if, when it came down to it, she'd be able to face her fate without any fear, embrace the inevitable like Marni surely did.   
  
She was uncertain of a lot of things.  
  
But there was one thing she is certain of. And that was Marni and her goodness.  
  
She pressed the button.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just remember, the same as a spectacular Vogue magazine, remember that no matter how close you follow the jumps: Continued on page whatever. No matter how careful you are, there's going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn't experience it all. There's that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should've been paying attention. Well, get used to that feeling. That's how your whole life will feel some day. This is all practice. None of this matters. We're just warming up.  
> \-- Chuck Palahniuk


End file.
